


Nero, Act I

by Couronnebead (orphan_account)



Series: Nero [1]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Rape/Non-con References, Some Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-29 14:11:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 29
Words: 53,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Couronnebead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nero, an escaped Tevinter slave, finds himself in Kirkwall on his way to Ferelden. There he meets Hawke and Co. and decides to stay for a while. This story follows his relationships with his new-found acquaintances and their adventures.</p><p>A few Chapters are still in first person POV<br/>sorry, working on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To understand distances a map of Ferelden would be helpful. Also I'm updating the first 17 chapters so that they aren't in first person anymore and flow more smoothly with the rest of the story. If there are any words i failed to fix please let me know and forgive me.

He hated to hunt, he hated to kill an innocent creature just so he could eat. But he knew it was necessary for his survival - so he killed his prey as quickly and quietly as possible and hoped that it felt no pain.

He was on the run, from everyone it sometimes seemed. And thus he was sticking to the wilds and fending for himself. As opposed to risking the eyes and ears of the villagers and city-dwellers. He was running to Ferelden, hoping his makers wouldn't subject themselves to its colder and wetter climate in search of him. But first, he had to reach Kirkwall and somehow catch a ship heading to Gwaren or Highever. He didn't really care which city he ended up in, he just needed to get more distance between himself and Minrathous.

He'd been considering hiding in the Korcari wilds, but had yet to hear any stories that made the place seem even slightly promising. He let his breath out slowly, closing his eyes he willed his heart to stop beating so fast and his nerves to settle. Thinking about anything other than the hunt right now would make the hunt a failure. And he was hungry. He could only hope that his stomach didn't grumble as the prey approached and indicate his presence. If that were to happen he was going to give up and eat his left arm, he could live with one arm.

He had been traveling for ages, years, he hardly remembered anymore exactly how long it had been. He lead the hunters all over the Tevinter Imperium, from Antiva to Orlais and back again. Trying desperately to lose them, but they always seemed to show up wherever he was. And though they may have never seen him, he had seen them. Three warriors, two magisters and an assassin they picked up in Antiva. He did not understand why they didn't give up, it had been so damned long.

He kept mostly to the woods and out of the villages and towns. The only time he ventured into cities was for supplies he could not get on his own - which didn't happen very often and when it did he made sure to cover his face. He always asked the grass and foliage to cover his tracks, and never left any sign of a camp. And yet they still followed his trail as if they could see it or sense him. It frustrated and confused him nearly to the point of madness - but he kept running, what other choice did he have?

He heard the sound of hooves crunching dead leaves and adjusted the hold on his daggers. He was kneeling on a branch of a very large tree, so old it had forgotten how to speak, so he did not talk to it but instead took reassurance in its existence. Saying he spoke to trees is a crude way of putting his abilities, but it was the easiest way to explain it to himself.

He was created with the earth's essence, which is like an invisible river that flows through every living thing, it has a power to it that is similar to magic, but is not. Some Dalish clans use it, but only the ones with old knowledge, and rarely. When magic is used it draws from multiple sources, the fade, lyrium, and this essence. When a mage uses a spell of an element, lightening for example, they take from this river and forge it into their magic. He was no mage, he does not take, he asks for assistance when he needs it. He is granted assistance because the river is like a branch of himself or rather, he is a branch of it.

He could sense the river in other living things and can sense their...emotions...as it were. It is very hard to explain, and he did not truly understand it himself. A mortal mind is not capable of comprehending such power, therefore understanding of it is limited.

The halla sauntered into his sight, and lowered its head to eat one of the apples he had placed under his perch for just this purpose. Silently, he let himself fall from the tree, landing on the halla's back like one would to ride a horse, before their bodies touched his arms were wrapped around its neck, daggers cutting deeply into its throat, he felt the blade in his right hand scrape the vertebrae and with his left arm he forced the halla's head to the right, twisting his upper body so fast that its neck broke. The sickening crack echoed through the silent woods. His kill took less time than a breath and he only hoped that the halla never knew it happened.

He waited for the surge of adrenaline to recede as he felt the halla's essence leave it's body and enter the river, what happens after that, he may never know.

As he skinned and prepared the halla for consumption he let his mind wander, and, as it often did, thought back to his first years after being 'made,' as though he could ever hope to understand what took place.

...

He did not remember much of the first few years of his life. He wasn't sure how much of that memory loss was self inflicted and how much was taken from him. One of his first memories was waking up on a cold table, naked but for a towel draped over his hips. He could not see well, everything was blurred and his mind did not recognize color yet. He only knew of color because of a jumbled mess of memories that he immediately recognized as foreign.

Sound was muffled, although he later found out that he was hearing the voices of his makers. They were excited.

"It lives!" one voice beamed, "we have succeeded!"

"It lives, for now. We know nothing of its capabilities yet, Macarius." a second voice reprimanded.

"Esperance, take a moment to accept that even if it is useless, you have just created life where there was no life before. This is amazing." a third voice laughed.

He felt a hand rove over his chest and was confused. He tried to lift his arm to push the hand away - and though his arm twitched he did not appear to have the strength to lift it.

_What am I? Why can't I move, who are these people?_

It would be months before he knew anything, months before he had any strength to move on his own. But the time would come when he would understand why he had conflicting memories of being a Dalish child and being a human child, why he was always called 'it' instead of 'he', and why he shouldn't ask questions.

He was to be trained in many things; his days were never his own. He slept when he was told to, he woke when he was told to, ate what he was told to, pissed when he was told to. He was trained in servant etiquette when he was told to, taught how to wield two blades and acrobatics with an effectiveness that only the best of the Antivan crows could match, and he was taught to read and use the earth, like a mage uses lyrium and their connection to the fade. These lessons were awkward, as no one completely understood what he could do and was the only area where he was mostly self-taught. Those were his favorite times. And when he found out he could call the river to him without touching the ground, he kept it to himself. He had wanted a secret, something of his own. As far as his makers were concerned, he had to have his skin in direct contact with the dirt to use his abilities.

He was trained to be a servant and an assassin capable of destroying multiple foes at once. And when he failed during his training he was beaten till he had broken bones and blood pouring down his back and legs to pool on the floor. Then he was sent to bed and healed the next morning by Esperance so he could train again.

For the first year or so he didn't ask questions, he did not want to be hit by his makers, he wanted them to be pleased with him. He was told his role was to keep them happy, so this is what he strived for, and when he failed and was to be beaten he felt he deserved it for failing them.

By his third year of training he began to ask questions, he began to wonder why he existed, how he existed, who were these people that made him, what were their plans for their creation?

He learned these things after his etiquette training was completed and his makers - Esperance, Macarius, and Krispen- told him he was to meet his Master. It was then he learned that he was not created for these people, he was created for the Archon of the Tevinter Imperium. He was to be the Archon's servant when his combat training was satisfactory, he was to be a body guard when needed, the royal assassin when desired, and if the Archon was impressed with him his makers were to be given permission to continue their research - to make something better.

And thus he was to leave his home - a fortress placed in a western part of Arlathan - and travel to Minrathous to be displayed for the Archon. He was bathed, his hair was cut, he was given new leathers and blades and was packed into a cart with the three magisters. But not before his feet and hands were chained together and gloves made of stiff leather and humming with magic were stuffed on his hands.

He was a threat, they told him, they did not trust him not to try to run or call the earth to his will and endanger them. When he thinks of them telling him that now, he laughs, he never would have considered running then. Nero was a slave, and he was afraid to be anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

Nero was tired and filthy as he approached Kirkwall. He couldn't remember for the life of him when the last time he had a real sleep was, certainly it was sometime before his escape.

His nerves were kept calm by the forced of willpower and the other people making their way to the city - he was grateful for the bodies hiding him from prying eyes, and kept one of his own eyes out for any suspicious figures in the crowd. Nero found himself surrounded by small families with their caravans holding goods that he could only assume they meant to sell. Or maybe most of them planned to move here, he couldn't tell.

It was difficult not to listen to the conversations around him, and a part of him reveled in the sound, being in the woods is nice, but he did often find himself missing the sound of conversation and civilization. He especially missed warm baths and soft beds. But mostly baths. He wrinkled his nose at himself,  _Maker, am I ever dirty._

"I heard that the Ferelden refugees started leaving."

"Well I would hope so, the blight is over isn't it? Was it really even a blight? What kind of blight only lasts a year?"

A laugh. "The good kind, I would say. Maybe Kirkwall will start smelling more like the Free Marches again instead of wet dog like it has for the past year or so."

"Your exaggerating pa, it only smells like that in Darktown...actually I think it smells worse than that in Darktown. It smelled terrible there before the Fereldens infested it."

"Well, maybe so, but I can assure you there were a lot less muggings before the Fereldens. I hate wasting our income on mercenaries just so we don't get jumped."

"Pretty soon the muggers are going to realize that we're only being protected once we reach the city walls and they'll start attacking us on this path."

"Quiet girl, don't tempt fate. I can't handle the idea of having a mercenary with us all the time. It would get so expensive..."

"I wouldn't mind if it was Hawke. Maker, he's gorgeous. Do you happen to know who Meeran sent for us this time?"

"I don't know, and I don't care so long as they do the job."

Nero stopped paying attention to the conversation happening in front of him and found himself falling back to walk behind the caravan, as opposed to beside it like he had been. Once again he found his thoughts drifting. He tried to imagine what the Hanged Man would be like. He was hoping it wasn't a complete dung-hole. He had heard of it while he was in Starkhaven, huddling under a window of a seedy bar wrapped in his dirty, ragged cloak, hoping to hear what he could of Kirkwall or Ostwick. Nero preferred to have a bit of an idea of the place he was walking into, so he didn't look so lost and confused that someone would notice him and offer assistance or take advantage of the newcomer.

Conveniently there was a man who seemed to be going on a vacation of sorts to Kirkwall and was looking for the best place to stay and the best places for fun.

"Well, the only places I know of to stay are the Blooming Rose in Hightown, but they are relatively expensive...and by relatively I mean very. Then in Lowtown there is the Hanged Man's pub. Their ale is apparently an acquired taste but the rooms are cheap and decent. If your going there for entertainment though I don't imagine you'll be spending much time in your room anyway." The bartender laughed and continued describing Kirkwall.

Nero had learned of the Gallows, Lowtown, Hightown and Darktown. And was exceedingly grateful that he had some idea of what to expect when he got there, and to avoid Darktown altogether... he had no desire to get into a fight with this 'Coterie' organization and there didn't appear to be anything worth going down there for.

Nero got into Kirkwall and found Lowtown without any problem. He was a little overwhelmed by all of the people, but found the Hanged Man soon enough and although it was less than impressive he found the employees to be appreciated. They didn't ask questions, which he was grateful for, and when he asked for a bath to be drawn up in his room the man smiled but said he would send some water up as soon as possible.

He passed by a room with the door open where a dwarf was telling a story to a small enraptured crowd. He found himself staring for a moment more than was appropriate. Luckily said dwarf didn't seem to notice him. This was the first time Nero had ever seen a dwarf, they were not particularly common in the Imperium. But he had always been under the impression that they had thick beards, and this one didn't appear to have any facial hair at all.

Nero mentally shrugged, sometimes people get their facts wrong.

He found his room to be comfortable enough, not too small and not too big. He was relieved that there wasn't a window, one less point of entry for the hunters. When the servants finally came to fill the tub he gratefully stripped off his weapons and armor after draping his cloak on a chair. He took his dullest and thickest knife and, after closing the door, jammed it in the crack between the door and the frame so it would be more difficult to open from the other side.

Before getting into the bath he caught his reflection in the water, his black hair tangled and stringy looking after being dirty and windswept for so long. He was sure that if he could brush it out successfully it would at least reach his shoulders, when he had escaped the Imperium it had been a short shag but he couldn't be bothered to cut it. It was almost nice to be able to let his hair do what it wanted, after so long of it having to look a certain way...even if it was a mess.

He wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or just that he was dirty but his skin looked quite a bit more tanned than it used to - more than he had expected. He had already been quite tanned before he left the Imperium, afternoons spent in the sun will do that to a person.

 _Esperance would be pleased._ He grimaced at the thought.

When his body was designed it was meant to be aesthetically pleasing to the Archon's eye. He happened to have a thing for the lanky elf bodies and their ears. So for the most part Nero appeared elven. However he had a very human face and occasionally someone - usually an elf - would notice that he wasn't quite right. And if they looked to long and too closely they would notice that his eyes were purple. Which was not a common occurrence in any species that he was aware of.

Nero recalled Esperance telling him one that they had expected him to have dark blue eyes, but when he was melded with the body they had chosen for him his iris's had changed color, although sometimes the blue did appear, when he was drawing a lot from the river.

While in the Imperium he found that oftentimes when a magister was inspecting his creator's work - namely himself - that they were initially unnerved by the purple coloring. This was one of the many reasons he wore his cloak; to hide his ears and eyes as much as possible and to hide his armor and daggers.

He drew his mind from these thoughts and slipped into the warm tub. He tried not to moan too loudly, but the warmth covering every inch of his body was better than an orgasm.

Nero allowed himself to relax till he almost fell asleep, then after quickly but thoroughly washing himself he dragged his body out of the tub and passed out on the bed, not bothering to put any clothing on or get under the blankets. He slept deeply, and for that he was grateful since he knew it wouldn't be long before his hunters were in the city and he would have to be on his guard.


	3. Chapter 3

On his first trip to Minrathous Nero was mostly ignored, and because he was ignored he was privy to a lot more information about his...formation than he ever was before. It was rather eye-opening.

Nero's makers were three very powerful magister's, Krispen and Macarius were both human but Esperance was Dalish, he knew not how she became a magister, but her Dalish teachings played a large part in the creation of Nero. It was because of her that Krispen and Macarius even knew about the river, although Nero never understood how the mages were able to gather it in the large quantities necessary for my making.

Originally the three came together to create something similar to the golems that were once used to protect the city of Minrathous. What they wanted was not the large rock or metal warriors with no will, they wanted smaller beings made of flesh that they could make and turn into warriors to build an army to restore the Tevinter Imperium to its former glory. However, this research and experimentation was not overly successful and eventually the Archon demanded proof that the magister's could create a life via magic at all.

It started with creating a body; through some sort of blood or Dalish magic an elven body was fused with a humans body and their living essence was extracted. The body continued to breathe through blood magic while energies from the river were pooled and formed into a humanoid essence. Again using blood magic - which demanded the lifeblood of numerous slaves - this humanoid essence and natural energy was infused into the body where it joined with the bodies energies to become Nero.

Despite knowing that magic would be a very powerful tool in a war, one of the goals of Nero's existence was to not be able to use magic. They wanted him to be able to use something similar that a Templar army could not suppress. This explained the time that that he was forced to fight a captured Templar to the death. Nero could still remember the Templar's scream of "what are you?" before his dagger slit his throat. Nero still don't have an answer to that question, and probably never would.

Krispen, Macarius, and Esperance commended each other on creating Nero without the need to mature physically or mentally, which would waste precious time. Nero don't think they were aware that he still had memories of the lives that his body was composed of. The elf they used was Dalish, and the human had been a slave. Nero's 'childhood' memories often overlap and he had fond memories of a father he never met and two mothers. It got confusing sometimes.

...

To get to Minrathous Nero and his makers had to cross the Nocen sea...or go around it, which would take far too long and the magisters were not comfortable traveling with Nero nor keeping the Archon waiting. So they headed from the Arlathan Forest to Carastes, where Nero's makers found they were boarding the ship with another magister whom they hadn't seen in years - stuck out in the forest with me as they were.

Denarius was also a magister who liked to do experiments. Nero sensed jealousy when Krispen explained that they were working under the sponsorship of the Archon, and though Nero was not exactly what they wanted when they began their research, he was surely an impressive byproduct. Denarius congratulated them and mentioned that he was very close to his own success.

This was the first time Nero realized that he was being referred to as an object, and he felt the stirrings of anger, although he did not recognize it for what it was. He maintained his silent vigil in the corner of their rooms on the 'Messy Transporter', where he was to stay silent unless addressed, which rarely happened.

"I have been experimenting with lyrium and its effects when placed in the body." Denarius explained "thus far the results haven't been overly positive. Mages tend to lose their grip on reality, the human body appears to be far too weak to handle it, Templars don't survive for long afterwards, and I can't even get the lyrium in a dwarf. I've had some success with placing some lyrium in the skin of an elf and a human who has either mage parents or mage siblings but is not themselves a mage. However both subjects died a few months afterwards as well."

"Such a shame," Esperance tsked "the next logical step would be to use an elf with mage siblings or parents I presume? I hope that works out well for you."

"You must be putting a lot of money into this expenditure, lyrium is not cheap by any means." Macarius said.

Danarius chuckled, "no it is not, but do not fear, I have not gone broke yet! In fact, I was in Carastes to purchase more lyrium. And I have some of my pupils traveling to the dwarves to purchase it from them. I have a grand idea I would like to see to fruition on my next subject. He is a handsome little elf, almost looks like yours here, although he definitely doesn't have the purple eyes."

Nero's ears twitched when he realized they were talking about him. He had been doing his best to tune out the conversation. Not particularly interested in hearing such a passive discussion of 'failed experiments.'

He was unsure if he was happy he wasn't a failure or not.

Esperance giggled " that was an unexpected side effect, although they are quite pretty aren't they? Nero here is to be a servant for the Archon when his training is finished. We only hope he finds him to be pleasing to the eye if nothing else."

"He certainly has a certain...physical appeal, doesn't he." Nero felt Danarius' eyes roving over my body and stopped himself from squirming in his leathers. He almost felt dirty. Nero did not have the same need to please this magister like he did to please his makers, and he did not enjoy the man's company. "Say," Danarius continued "how long are you three to be staying in Minrathous? I would greatly welcome your company in my estate. With my pupils gone it is very quiet." he chuckled again.

Krispen spoke up for the first time since the beginning of this visit, "Danarius, your hospitality would be greatly appreciated. We are not completely sure how long we are to stay, we will stay as long as the Archon wishes to be in the presence of his pet of course, but I have not looked forward to staying in the castle."

"I agree," said Macarius, "its too...political in there, I find I don't trust anyone or anything in that building while I'm in it."

"It is agreed then!" Danarius smiled, "I will have rooms set up for you, have your things delivered to my estate when we reach land. I look forward to your company. Now, if you'll excuse me," Danarius stood, "I must head back to my rooms to deal with some small business matters. Thank you for the tea."


	4. Chapter 4

Nero woke up with a bad taste in his mouth, he did not like thinking about Minrathous. His memories of that place were less than favorable...but then his memories of most places in the Imperium were similar.

Because he didn't have a window, he did not know what time of day it was, or if it was day at all. But, judging by the candle that he had forgotten to put out, he didn't sleep for very long. Which was just as well, he felt fully rested anyway, he never had required much sleep.

After getting dressed he dug in his pack for some of the halla meat he had leftover from his hunt. It was dry, but cooked and filled his stomach, although he  _was_  getting terribly sick of halla meat.

He needed to survey the area, he wanted to be more familiar with Kirkwall than his hunters were when they arrived.

It was dark when he left the hanged man, although there were still a few people quietly drinking inside. He found himself wandering through Lowtown, looking at the buildings for any places where an archer might be able to hide, looking for hiding spots, seeing where alleyways led. If he needed to run he wanted to know where he could go.

When he found the Alienage he was brought up short by the huge tree in the center of it. He had heard of Alienages, but there had been none in Minrathous when he was there and he had never been in many places long enough to see one. He was a little confused by how such a huge tree could be found in such a crowded part of the city. If the trunk of the tree was hollowed out he was sure it would have made a nice sized home for someone.

He was pleased to see that the tree appeared to be content despite its environment. The leaves were green and the bark was healthy. Nero noticed some shrines and figured that the elves must worship it or something. He knew next to nothing about elven lore so he was not sure if this was normal or not.

Nero continued on and found himself in Hightown but was a little uncomfortable with the area, if he wanted to find slaves in this city this is where he would have to look...but he did not want to find slaves. He could do nothing for them; most slaves didn't even know that their life was less than ideal, he did not wish to shatter their views, as misguided as they may be.

He walked for hours, the sky barely started to lighten by the time he noticed some of the merchants heading to their stalls and decided to head back. He didn't particularly want to be caught up in a tide of people, as much as he had missed civilization. He preferred to view people from the sidelines where he was hidden in the shadows and went unnoticed. It's harder to get caught that way.

Nero was very nearly to the Hanged Man when he heard the sound of steel on steel; someone was pulling a sword from a scabbard. He stopped and wrapped his hands around the hilt of his daggers where they were settled on each hip. A man came out of an alleyway to greet him.

"Hullo friend! We were just wondering if you would like to make a donation to our organization you see, no need to be so tense. A few sovereigns will do just wonderfully." He smiled at Nero, his teeth stained and many missing.

Nero suppressed a shudder as his adrenaline began to rise, although he hoped to avoid a fight, he did not want to draw attention to myself, not here, not now.

"Unfortunately, friend," he hissed, "I do not have that kind of money on my person."

The man frowned, and the other men that were hiding in the shadows stepped forward, wielding daggers, swords and a few with bows. Nero did not want to do this today.

"Well that is a problem, Messere. See, I can tell that you have some money that you should be willing to part with, those boots are not cheap. So maybe if you are unwilling to give us your gold, we'll just take your clothes." he reached his hand up and motioned for his men to attack.

As Nero crouched he unhooked the strap holding his cloak on and let it fall, twisting as he did so, so that the cloak wrapped around his leg. as Nero turned around he kicked his cloak into the face of one attacker and caught another one in the chest with a dagger.

Nero tried to assess the situation while avoiding the blades coming at him in every direction. There were too many men for this to go well for him. Because he was battling alone he would not be able to find the time necessary to put his hand to the ground and call forth the essence, nor would he have the time to concentrate hard enough to call it to him anyway. Attempting to use his type of magic would be impossible while he was avoiding death in the form of blades.

Nero had taken down several men so far, but it seemed that for every one that fell two took his place, his daggers flew through the air like extensions of his hands, keeping the attackers far enough away that they could not grab him. Nero grabbed the man behind him by the shirt, and flung him around to throw him into the group of men at his front, Nero needed to escape, he would not win this battle.

He cut through a few more men, blood spurting onto his face and his dagger catching in their leathers before he finally made his way through them. He reached the stairs that led to the docks; they were the closest. Another man stepped into Nero's way and immediately his daggers found themselves in the other man's chest, and blood bubbled from his mouth.

Before Nero had a chance to completely free his daggers he felt an arm go around his throat and a fist connected with the side of his head.

He saw black for a few seconds, and his right ear was ringing slightly, but he did not feel any pain as he grabbed the knife at his belt and shoved it under the mans ribs behind him. Nero did not get the chance to pull it from the other man before he stumbled backwards and Nero was grabbed again, this time from the side.

Nero's weapons were gone, stuck in dying men and he was left with naught but his body. Slightly disoriented he elbowed the man that grabbed him in the chin and his head snapped back, Nero felt more hands grab him from behind again and he kicked backwards but the hands were only replaced by others.

Nero was ready to acknowledge defeat when he felt a blade enter his midsection from behind, just under his ribs on his left side. He felt the tip of the sword stretch the skin of his belly before being pulled out of him in a spray of blood.

As strong of a fighter as Nero might be he still crumpled to the ground, where he was kicked and punched a few times before someone sat on him, to stop him from struggling, which he wasn't anyway, while they untied his boots and tried to pull them off.

Nero took the opportunity to place his hands on the ground and let the river come to his aid. He felt the essence of the tree in the Alienage and called for it, it responded strongly. Tree roots pushed through the stones that made the street of Lowtown and impaled Nero's attackers. The one sitting on him was dragged off and Nero could breath a little easier, but his blood started flowing freely again. He had not been aware the man sitting on him was sitting on his wound as well, stopping the blood flow with the pressure of his weight.

Warmth began spreading down Nero's side again as he struggled to his hands and knees. Screams rang out around him, and he could only pray that he could make it far enough away from this place to get some sort of help.

He tried to stand but did not have the strength, so as the tree roots sunk back into the ground, his attackers being indisposed, he crawled on hands and knees as close as he could to the Hanged Man. He found myself in an alley beside the main doors and leaned against a red crate, he was too weak to get any further, the best he could hope for was someone to notice the bloody elf in the alley, but he did not hold his hopes very high.

Before he even realized what was happening his eyes were closing. Nero's last thought before he passed out was that his hunters would be livid they were not able to capture him alive and that they weren't the ones to kill him. He would not die the Archon's doll. Nero smiled as the darkness fell upon him.


	5. Chapter 5

Garrett Hawke was in a good mood, despite the fact that he was heading to the wounded coast in hopes of finding the Viscount's son, and that he was currently walking with a rather quiet & broody elf.

They were on their way to the Hanged Man in hopes of stringing Varric and Isabela along, then Hawke was considering heading to Darktown to fetch Anders, but he knew that Anders needed to see to his patients and that Fenris would wallow in brood-land if Anders were to come along. Hawke also suspected that Fenris was nursing a hangover, but he thought that most days and was unsure if it really was a hangover or if Fenris really was that stiff. He preferred to pretend it to be the former.

The two men hadn't said much during the trek from Hightown, but that wasn't unusual. Fenris was an exceptional mercenary and even though he had an antagonistic attitude towards a lot of things he was a comfort to have around when one was going to the wounded coast. Maker knows what kind of creatures they would run into there. And if the suspicions of Seneschal Bran were correct they would be fighting Qunari; Hawke could use all the manpower he could get.

It was still early, the sun had just risen about an hour beforehand, Hawke wasn't very convinced that Varric or Isabela would even be awake at this time of day, but he was going to wake them up anyway. He had only got Fenris out of the mansion with promises of greasy breakfast from the Hanged Man.

They rounded a corner towards the bar and came to a stop. There were bodies everywhere. The flagstones were dyed red with blood. None of the bodies appeared to be alive, although that wasn't very surprising. Most of them had large jagged holes in thier chests, as though someone had shoved their arm right through them.

"Well this is certainly unexpected." Hawke mumbled before stepping forword into the massacre towards the two daggers he saw sticking out of a man's chest. Fenris grunted as he followed, his brows knitted in confusion.

"I wonder what caused that, it certainly wasn't these daggers," Hawke said, his good mood receding as he tried to figure out what happened here. He eyed the daggers suspiciously, "although these are some damned good quality." he shrugged as he handed one to Fenris.

"These were made in Tevinter," Fenris stated as he noticed the shield etched into the blade near the hilt. The sun shape under the checkered pattern did nothing to ease his mind about this whole mess. Flipping the blade over he noted that the other side of the blade had an engraving of a hooded ferryman, "made for the Archon, it would seem."

Hawke raised an eyebrow at fenris, "I get the Tevinter part, how do you know these where made for the Archon, and what exactly is an Archon? They dont exactly talk about the Imperium much in Ferelden."

Fenris sighed as he handed the dagger back, not particularly wanting to hold something made for a magister. He wiped his hand on his leggings before explainging "The Archon is comparable to the King of Ferelden. He rules over Tevinter, the seal of the Archon is a hooded ferryman. They say that prior to becoming the first Archon, Darinius had a dream that he crossed a river in a small boat piloted by a man whose face he never saw. As he got off the ferry he looked back and saw that the ferryman was himself."

"I see."

"Maybe, if you wish to know what took place here, Varric would be the one to talk to." Fenris suggested.

"Too true, the smell of blood is kind of getting to me anyway," Hawke turned and headed towards the Hanged Man's door. He was holding it open for Fenris when he realized that Fenris was not behind him anymore. Instead he was standing a few feet away looking down the alley where the Hanged Man's kitchen opened.

Fenris didn't even glance up at Hawke when he said "I think I found the owner of those daggers."

...

Hawke was amazed the man he was carrying was still breathing, the wound in his back was huge and maker knows how long he had been leaning against that crate, bleeding out.

"I thought elves were supposed to be light." Isabela whined.

After determining that the corpse-like figure in the alleyway was in fact alive Hawke left Fenris with him while he got the pirate, he was determined to get this man to Anders' clinic before he died. Varric offered to deal with the mess outside and stayed behind, he preferred to clear the bodies away before any guards or templars found them and decided to hang around the Hanged Man with questions on thier lips.

"I'm not completetly sure he is an elf" Fenris said.

"Why am I helping Hawke carry this guy, Fenris? I'm sure your much stronger than I am, what with lugging around that big sword. AND, I just woke up, " Isabella sighed, "what a horrible thing to wake up to. Besides, he has the elf ears."

"I dont think he would appreciate Fenris' armor cutting his arm off. And he also has a very obviously NOT elven face. Can't say I've ever met a half elf/half human that looked quite like this one." Hawke said.

"Fenris could just take his armor off. And elf or not, this guy is cute...despite the whole dying thing." Isabella frowned.

"Your kind of a perv, Isabella," Hawke laughed "and im fairly sure that Fenris sleeps in that armor, I dont think he would take it off for a dying man, no matter how cute he is."

They finally arrived at Anders' clinic, Fenris held the door open as Isabella and Hawke drug the man in.

Anders appeared from the back of the clinic, tieing his hair back as Hawke and Isabella placed the man on a table, face down, Isabella sighed and rolled her shoulders. "Maker, what happened to him?" Anders demanded. He grabbed a pair of scissors to cut through the leather

Hawke explained as Isabella laid down on a cot and began to doze, Fenris watched from his position near the door, uncomfortable with the entire situation. The man didn't appear to be a magister, having not found a staff, and he wasn't built as a man who spent most of his time sitting or casting spells would be. But that did not mean he was not one, so Fenris was on his guard. It seemed a safe assumption that this was the owner of the daggers but it was not a guarantee. And what of the men with the holes in thier chests in lowtown? Certainly that couldn't be anything other other than magic. Maybe this was another person Denarius sent after him, but no...as powerful as Denarius was he was not at the level to get the Archon's help in...retreiving Fenris. He pinched the bridge of his nose _, I do not understand, and I do not like it._

As Anders took away the leather armor the man wore Fenris stepped forword, hoping that there would be pockets or something on the inside of the armor that would hint at his reason for being in Kirkwall. He took it from Anders and inspected it, inside and out, finding nothing except blood and a few repaired holes where it had obviously been pierced.

"Find anything?" Hawke asked as he helped Anders take the man's tunic off of him.

"No."

The leather armor fell from his hands with a dull thud.

Anders and Hawke looked at him questioningly but he did not notice. He was staring at the tattoo on the dying man's shoulder. It was a mark of ownership that many magisters put on slaves that they never intended to sell, if said slave got lost, or escaped, the mark would indicate who to return him to.

Hawke followed Fenris's gaze to the man's shoulder, where a tattoo of a hooded ferryman was seen through the blood. His brow furrowed before he realized it was the same image that he found on one of the daggers.

"It would appear that those daggers were his, wouldn't it." Hawke muttered.

"No," Fenris mumbled "it is the Archon's crest...this man is the Archons slave. Mauris!"[1]

"Shit," Anders muttered as he poured water on the wound, trying to clean some of the dried blood off so he could see it. "We would know if the Archon was here wouldn't we? Why would his slave be hanging out in lowtown? "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mauris = shit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> []= translation.

Nero was faintly aware that he was gaining consciousness, and that he was laying on his back. On a bed? He didn't understand at first, having forgotten that he had already made it to Kirkwall. He realized that he did not know where he was and though he could hear movement and people talking, he did not know who they were. Nero sat up quickly, instinctively on the defensive, quickly realizing he had no weapons on him when his head started spinning.

"Mauris...deum," he said, grabbing his head with both of his hands, slowly he adjusted to the new position. _I must have been laying down for quite some time. This is not good._  [Shit...fuck]

Nero opened his eyes again and took in his surroundings. He appeared to be on a cot in some sort of medical clinic. The scent of mana was strong here, so he doubted it was sanctioned by the city. His guess was confirmed when he realized that the clinic wasn't exactly...high quality. Everything appeared ratty and second hand. The floor was made of dirt, and it smelled like blood, infection, and vomit with a hint of piss and lyrium potion.

What he presumed to be the healer mage was tending to a child, no more than ten years old. The man whispered to her and the child smiled before running out the door. Then Nero was the focus of the man's attention, and he wasn't particularly happy about it. Nero had not met many mages that weren't egotistical and power-hungry, although, this man looked neither. He looked tired, no... he looked exhausted. But he smiled at Nero anyway, shoving his dirty blond hair off of his forehead and rubbing his scruffy cheeks as he turned to a sink on the other side of the room and washed his hands.

"Ubi est, qui estis?" Nero demanded, although it came out as more of a croak and the mage didn't hear him. [Where is this,who are you]

There was movement beside him and he jumped a little and looked to find an elf who appeared to be waking himself up. His hair was a shocking white, although he was by no means old, he also had strange silver tattoos on his neck and what Nero could see of his arms. They almost looked like Dalish markings, but, aside from two lines on his chin, there weren't any on his face. And in Nero's experience the Dalish always had their tattoos on their face.

Nero's brows knit in confusion, something about the elf's face struck a memory that he could not quite recall. He wouldn't have thought that he would forget such a unique appearance. Nero added it to the list of things he did not understand at the moment.

Absentmindedly he whispered to himself, "Agnosco vos esse I fi." [I think I recognize you]

The elf scowled at him, "placidus deorsum estis amici. Tu commune lingua?" [calm down, you are among friends, do you speak the common tongue?]

Nero would almost say the elf growled at him.

"Uh...yes. I do." he managed to say. His brain did not seem to be functioning well and he started to notice that he was feeling weak; it was getting worse as the seconds ticked by.

"Good, then do so." the elf grumbled at Nero, before he stood and grabbed a very large sword off of the cot that his chair was leaned against and strapped it to his back. "I do not wish to be a translator."

"Ah, so you live yet I see, how are you feeling?" the blond man stood at the end of the cot, Nero wasn't sure if the concern he heard in his voice was real or forced.

"Um..." he began slowly, his brows scrunching together again as he thought "I appear to be very hungry, and very thirsty...and I have to piss so bad I'm surprised I haven't wet myself."

Nero tried to hide the shock at his own blunt words, when he couldn't he decided to blame it on the state he was in. He shifted his focus to the fact that he was barely clothed, and when some bad memories tugged at him he tried to push them back down. Nero stiffened and eyed the door that the kid had left through earlier, trying to gauge how far he would get if the need to escape arose. He honestly didn't think he would get far.

The blond chuckled, "well you've been unconscious for the better part of three days, so I can't say I'm surprised. There is a chamber pot beside your bed, and if Fenris would be so kind as to get you some water I'll find you something to eat." he narrowed his eyes at the white haired elf, and the elf scowled at him in return. Clearly there was no love lost there. "I'm Anders, by the way."

Nero said nothing and the mage strode to the other side of the room shortly after the elf disappeared through a door at the back of the clinic. He took the moment to swing his legs over the bed and grab the chamber pot.

With the chamber pot back on the floor Nero tried to stand, as soon as he put his weight on his legs they gave out on him and he was glad he had decided to keep a hand on the bed. With a sigh Nero pulled himself back up and leaned forward to put his head in his hands.  _I need to get out of here, this is not safe... shit._

"Take this." Nero looked up at the sound of the deep voice belonging to the elf. He held a mug of water towards him, he cautiously took it.

Before taking a drink Nero stuck his finger in the water. He noticed the elf raise an eyebrow in question at this action but decided against explaining it. After sensing there was no taint in the water Nero greedily drank it. It had a metallic tang to it but,  _Maker_  was it ever good.

He held the empty cup in his hand and leaned back as the elf sat down. He still could not place where he knew the white-haired man from, but at the moment it was the least of his worries.

"Where am I and why am I here?" Nero asked.

He turned his questioning gaze to the elf, who stared at the bedridden man for a moment with an unreadable expression before answering.

"You are in Darktown, of Kirkwall. Hawke and I found you half dead in an alley beside the Hanged Man and drug you here. From what we were able to gather you were attacked by a group of thieves and managed to kill them but got stabbed in the process."

Anders had returned and handed Nero a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese with an apologetic expression and a shrug of his shoulders. Nero didn't care, he was very grateful.

"Speaking of which, how did you manage to put holes in the chests of that many men? You are not a mage, but I can think of no way other than by magic." Anders asked.

Nero tensed, despite saving his life these people did not have his trust, and he would not divulge what he was capable of. So he ignored the question.

"I cannot pay you, either of you. I have no money-" he began instead.

"No, no, that's not necessary." Anders said "I don't charge anybody, although fixing you did take up a great deal of time and even more of my energy. By all rights you should be dead."

Nero scowled, "then what do you want?"

"Nothing."

He snorted, "nobody does anything for nothing."

"That attitude must be a Tevinter thing, you sound just like Fenris." A dark haired man said as he strode into the clinic, Nero's eyes immediately shot to the sword and shield on his back and the few knives at his belt.

Nero scowled, how did they know where he was from?

"See! Your both scowling at me, it's eerie. Stop it." He chuckled as Nero and Fenris glanced at each other before quickly looking away. "Glad to see your alive, I'm Hawke. Sorry for sticking you with Anders and Fenris at the same time. To be honest I'm surprised they're both alive too." He laughed before turning to Fenris. "Varric and Isabella are on their way if you wanted to head home, you've been here for quite some time."

Anders snorted "He spent most of it sleeping."

"I was not sleeping." Fenris growled "And I am not leaving, I have questions for you." the last was said to Nero.

"I would not expect many answers were I you." Nero told him coldly.

He was starting to wonder if the elf ever stopped scowling, but then he realized they could wonder the same thing about him, and tried to relax his features. The door to the clinic opened again, letting in a very busty and...scantily clad woman and the hairless dwarf Nero recalled seeing at the Hanged Man.

The woman stopped short when she saw Nero, then she rushed forward till she was at the foot of the bed, still staring at him. Nero blinked in shock a few times.

"I thought Fenris had pretty eyes, but holy Maker, your eyes are gorgeous!" She told him gleefully.

"Isabella." Hawke warned.

She stood up and put her hand on her hip, "Well shit, Hawke. His eyes are purple for Andraste's sake. That is awesome." she winked at Nero, "You have gone from cute to sexy my dear."

He raised his eyebrow in response.

"Never mind her," Hawke said, "she has the libido of an 11 year old boy. It's disconcerting. Anyway, we've been spending the last three days trying to figure out who you are and what your doing here. Care to shed some light on the mystery?" he gave Nero what he suspected was supposed to be a reassuring smile. But Nero had had reassuring smiles preclude beatings enough times that he didn't trust it.

" I don't know who any of you people are, why would I tell you that?" he asked.

"Pfft, buddy, we saved your life." The woman huffed. "we're good folk! Who else can you trust if you can't trust good folk?"

Nero did not reply.

Hawke sighed and then told him about why he was in Kirkwall, and how he gathered his rag-tag group of friends. And that he was doing odd jobs here and there to get enough money to partake in an expedition to the deep roads. Nero was surprised, from what he had heard of the deep roads, it was not a safe place to go by any means. WHen he mentioned it the dwarf laughed and said "but the gold, the gold!"

Being in need of coin himself, Nero found himself nodding his understanding.

"From what I've seen, you can stand your ground." Hawke continued "if your able and willing I think I could find myself in need of someone of your talents down there." He laughed.

When Nero explained that he was only looking for a way to Ferelden (although he would not elaborate as to why) Hawke told him that he would be compensated upon their return from the deep roads with more than enough gold to get him to Ferelden and back multiple times.

Nero found himself agreeing, later he would think it was unnatural the way Hawke seemed to convince him so easily to take a dangerous trip below-ground with a rag-tag group of strangers. Although weary, Nero managed to convince himself that it wouldn't be bad to hide in the deep roads for a time. He did not think his hunters would follow him there.

Fenris, having not said a thing the entire conversation, spoke up. "Maybe we should learn a little bit more about him before we make him our companion, Hawke."

Hawke sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, but said nothing. Fenris took this as permission and turned on the man in the bed.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Nero."

"Why are you here?"

"To get a ship to Ferelden."

He sighed, then tried again "who are you?"

Nero was confused "My name is-"

"Dammit!" Fenris growled and stood, glaring at the other man as he leaned forward. "Why is the Archon's slave here?"

Nero stiffened and paled, driving Anders to intervene before Nero could even think of a believable lie. "Fenris, back off. He just woke up from an extremely fatal abdominal wound. I can see that he is already tired. He needs to rest, so hold off your damned interrogation."

Fenris glared at Anders, and, Nero thought he might be hallucinating things due to his weakened state, but he was fairly certain the elf's tattoo's glowed. But then Fenris was gone from the clinic and the others were leaving before Nero had a chance to ask anyone about it.


	7. Chapter 7

Nero could think of nothing. He didn't exactly expect anyone to know that he was a slave, much less the Archon's property. He had never thought of a cover story beyond saying he was a traveler and had never been to Ferelden. He didn't have a whole lot of time to think on it anyway, over the next couple of days he spent most of his time sleeping. He was quite impressed with the healer's ability, he had been wounded rather severely before and generally the area would still be sore afterwards, but had he not been reminded that he had been stabbed Nero was not completely sure he would have remembered. All he was recovering from was extreme blood loss and dehydration.

Nero still felt he had a debt to pay, he could not fathom why anyone would help what appeared to be an elf bleeding to death in an alley, without expecting something. And he didn't like the idea that he owed anyone anything, he only hoped that this deep roads expedition would be adequate compensation and then some.

He spent two more days under the eye of the healer and in the clinic, by the end of which he was growing restless. He had strength enough to walk on his own, and did so, but he had no where to go, so he assisted Anders when the mage seemed overwhelmed by his workload...which was nearly all the time. Mostly Nero just grabbed things for him, and helped some of the patients. Nero's medical knowledge was non-existent. He spent the rest of his time trying to get the blood off of his armor, without much luck, he got most of the dried blood off but the leather had been stained. He sewed it back together regardless, it was the only armor he had, bloodstained or not it was better than nothing.

The dwarf and Hawke had gone to the Hanged Man and retrieved Nero's pack, so he was at least in his own clothes, wearing his extra tunic and pants. He also had his daggers back - which was a great comfort. Not that he had any intention of using them on these people, despite some concerns that were voiced by the others to Hawke, which the man laughed off. Nero found that he and Hawke seemed to have some sort of unjustified faith in each other, Nero found it unnerving and he tried to maintain his skepticism in spite of it.

Despite having his weapons back he was a bit disappointed to hear that his scabbards did not appear to be in sight. At some point during his battle the belt holding them to his waist must have been cut. Nero tried to be thankful for what he had, but he found himself wondering if death wouldn't have been the best way to find the freedom he was looking for.

Nero did not see Fenris again till his second night in the clinic. Anders had just extinguished the lanterns and went to the back to clean up when Hawke threw open the door, followed by the elf, Isabela, and Varric, the dwarf. Nero was sitting on his cot picking blood out of the images etched in the blade of his daggers when they entered, he spared them a glance before returning to his task.

Anders reappeared from the back and struck up a conversation with his guests, a shadow fell over Nero as his scabbards were tossed beside him on his cot.  _Huh, never thought I would see those again._  Nero looked up to find himself looking into large, green orbs.  _Unexpected_.

Going back to cleaning his daggers he muttered "gratias."

Taking a seat on the cot next to Nero's, Fenris said nothing for a few moments, before speaking low in tevinter, as though he did not wish the others to know what he was saying.

"I presume you are an escapee, will you be followed here?"

Nero thought on his answer for a moment, deciding his only real option was to tell him the truth,  _he seems to have guessed most of it anyway_ , "I expect to have been followed, yes."

Fenris scowled, "You endanger us all, you should leave."

Nero snorted, "I do not get the impression that Hawke would agree. They are after me, and me alone, your lives are not at risk unless you try to protect me from them, which I advise against."

"Aaaaw, look Hawke, aren't they cute?" Isabela giggled, "I think they might actually be friends soon."

Fenris scowled and Nero ignored her.

"Stop it, Isabela," Hawke grabbed a chair and placed it at the end of Nero's bed, leaning back he rested his feet on the metal railing as Isabella sat beside Fenris and Anders and Varric shared the cot on the other side. Nero stiffened, he was surrounded, escape, if necessary, would be difficult.

"So, Nero." Hawke began "do you care to share your story?"

Nero rubbed his hands over his face, sighing. "I would rather not, but i imagine this is inevitable, what do you wish to know?"

"Who were you in Tevinter?"

Putting down his daggers Nero leaned back on his elbows and looked at the ceiling, "A slave."

"For the Archon, right? What were your uh...duties?"

"That depends, I did what I was told to. Sometimes it was something as simple as delivering a message to someone else in the castle, sometimes I acted as the palace executioner, other times I was told to ... quietly kill someone, sometimes I was chosen to fight a magister's prized guard or whatnot, for sport, I was told."

It was not a complete lie, Nero occasionally was used to carry messages from one of his makers to another in the estate, they had him execute or fight any trespassers on their property, and occasionally a magister would visit and ask to view Nero's fighting skills. Those requests never seemed to end despite how many magister's lost their bodyguards. The Archon, despite not making use of Nero, sent some of his prisoners to the estate to keep his skills honed and practiced. But he never did see the man himself after Nero was rejected.

Hawke was quiet for a few moments, "and you escaped." it was a statement more than a question.

"Yes." Nero agreed.

Varric chuckled, "Well what are the chances. It seems you attract escaped slaves from Tevinter my dear Hawke."

Anders caught sight of Nero's questioning expression and clarified for him, "Fenris has a similar story, which is surprising, given his personality."

Nero inspected the white haired elf for a moment,  _perhaps I had seen him around. That would explain why I recognize him._

"What's that, mage?" Fenris snarled.

"Well you don't exactly have the temperament for a slave."

Fenris' eyes narrowed, "is that a compliment or an insult?"

"I'm just wondering how your master didn't kill you."

Fenris snorted, "how have the Templar's not killed you?"

Anders smiled, "I'm charming."

"Guys, stop it." Hawke interjected. "Does your master think you dead, or is he looking for you?"

"I have no master," Nero snapped. After forcing down his irritation he elaborated "However...yes, the man who believes he owns me has sent people to track me down. It has been years but I cannot shake them. It does not matter where I go, they always seem to know."

"Sounds like when I was on the run from the circle," Anders said, "although they had my phylactery..."

"I hear magister's have loose morals, do you think they would have a phylactery for you despite you not being a mage? It seems like a good way to track a person that you didn't want to lose." Hawke asked.

Nero tried to hide his confusion, but failed, so Anders explained "It is often a small glass vial containing blood that is used to track mages that have gone apostate. Apparently the blood glows the closer it gets to said apostate." Nero raised an eyebrow in question, to which Anders laughed "My phylactery was destroyed when I was conscripted into the Grey Wardens. Have you ever heard anyone mention it?"

"I...do not know..." Nero muttered.

"Well, we'll worry about it some other time," Hawke began, "the more pertinent issue is where your going to stay. If you are being hunted, and you know that they will come to Kirkwall, staying at the Hanged Man is a terrible idea. It's little more than a gossip mill, oh stop it Varric you know its true. Maker forsake if someone there has gotten a good look at your eyes."

Nero sighed, unsure what to say, "Where do you suggest I go?"

"Well," Hawke smiled, "I happen to know someone who lives in a very large and empty estate, all by himself..."


	8. Chapter 8

"Absolutely not!" Fenris stood. "you wish me to live with someone who has Tevinter hunters after him? You are not just putting my life on the line, Hawke, but my freedom as well. I will not allow it."

"Fenris," Hawke said slowly, "Where else can he go? This is one of the best arrangements for him, for both of you, who is going to look for a slave on the run in a mansion? In Hightown none-the-less. You sure as hell haven't had any slavers knocking on your door! And with him there even if they did appear on your doorstep you would have someone else there to back you up."

"I owe him nothing."

"You owe me. Will you allow it?"

Fenris slowly sat down, obviously deep in thought. After a few moments he sighed loudly and stared at the ceiling. "Fine."

"I...thank you." was all Nero could manage to say. Despite Fenris' animosity towards the idea, Nero was terribly grateful that he was willing to share his lodgings for anyone's sake, whether it was a fellow escaped slave or Hawke's. Were Nero in his shoes, he did not think he would be able to do the same. He vowed to disturb him as little as possible.

Fenris nodded in response.

"Sorry Varric," Isabella smirked, "but it looks like I'm moving out of the Hanged Man, I hear there is a mansion in Hightown with two sexily brooding elves in it."

"Since when is brooding sexy?" the dwarf asked.

"Hush. I will make it sexy, after we all drink and make bets on the color of each others underclothes." Isabella giggled.

"I am...mildly disturbed." Nero said.

"You will find you get used to it." Fenris told him.

"Is she serious?"

He thought about it for a moment, "I am not entirely sure..."

...

Nero chose a room as far away from the one that Fenris used, on the main floor on the other side of the mansion. The estate was filthy, and cold, and dark. The walls sang of bad memories, but it was still a step up from the Hanged Man. Fenris made it more than clear as he showed Nero around that he was not happy with this arrangement, so Nero made an effort to stay quiet and out of his way.

Nero boarded up the window to his room, and shoved the thickest curtains he could find in front of it. His goal was to stop any light being visible from his window when he had the fire lit at night. If he had it his way, as far as anyone was to know, he did not exist. Nero refused to be found in the state he was in. Although he was recovering quickly, he was still much weaker than he wanted to be. If he were to survive an encounter with the people hunting him he would need to be in top form.

Knowing that Fenris would not willingly talk to Nero, Hawke took it upon himself to go to his room and explain to him that the mansion he was residing in was owned by Fenris' master, and that the elf was waiting for his master to come back, in hopes of gaining his freedom. Nero wasn't shocked but felt himself mildly forgiving of Fenris' angry nature, knowing exactly how it felt to have your master chasing you, in an attempt to reclaim you. The similarities in their positions was surprising, Hawke himself said as much, but he promised to do what he could to prevent either Fenris or Nero being recaptured.

Nero was touched, and at a loss for words, he was not accustomed to people caring about his safety, much less willing to fight for it. But he was not sure he wanted their deaths on his hands either.

On his first night in the mansion he took it upon himself to silently explore the rooms on the main floor and the basement, without the angry elf around. He memorized multiple escape routes in case of necessity and found a bed, a small table and a couple of chairs and dragged them to his room. He almost laughed with the knowledge that he had the ability to do whatever he wanted to such expensive furniture (despite being incredibly dusty and chewed by rats in a few spots), whereas before he wasn't even allowed to put a finger on such things unless he was entertaining...Nero shook his head to prevent himself from going further down that road.

In the basement Nero found a wine cellar that was filled with a ludicrous amount of wine, from all over Thedas. He found himself wondering why someone would abandon a mansion but leave such a large collection of wine, but decided not to dwell on it, knowing he likely would never know the reason. He grabbed a bottle of Antivan wine and continued down the hall where he found a room whose door was extremely difficult to open but when he did he found himself in a room with dirt for the floor (the rest of the basement used flagstone) and found a smile creeping on his face.

It was more difficult to feel the energies of the river through the flagstones and boots, so he kicked them off and, setting the wine bottle beside his shoes, he stood in the middle of the room and dug his toes into the dirt to let the river flow through him strongly. It brought Nero a kind of peace that he could only describe as complete. His thoughts drifted away into a steady hum as he slowly lowered himself to the ground and dug his fingers into the dirt as well.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he roused himself and strode to his room, where he had a little bit of wine before falling asleep in the chair.

...

The first thing Nero had noticed about Minrathous was that it was very warm, and there were a  _lot_ of people. He found himself trying to take everything in and failing miserably, later he wouldn't even be able to recall what color the road was.

Nero and his masters parted ways with Denarius and his entourage at the docks, of which Nero was grateful. He felt uncomfortable under the magisters gaze, which he felt was constantly on him. He sensed it more than saw it and did not look forward to staying in the Denarius estate for the duration of his visit. He wished only to go home.

Before taking leave of the boat the chain connecting the shackles on Nero's ankles was removed, though the shackles remained. A leash was added to the chain that connected his wrists. He would not be getting away from them, although at the time he did not understand why they thought he would.

Esperance wanted to introduce Nero to the Archon as soon as possible, and so he was pulled in the direction of the castle. All the way he was reminded of how he was to behave by Krispen, and nodded in response. When they arrived at the castle Nero found himself in awe of how very large it was, and how high the ceilings were. After a very long wait, in which he tried to push down his nervous and anxious feelings, they were told the Archon would see them.

Nero was the last to enter the throne room, but they were not there long. The Archon was an older man with white at his temples, and long, light brown hair ending in a braid that draped over his shoulder. Nero and his makers stood too far away for him to decipher much else of his countenance. The Archon told them that he would arrange a show of Nero's talents in four days time. Then they were dismissed. Nero was disappointed, was he not made for this man? Why did he not spare the slave more than a cursory glance? What did Nero do wrong?

The magisters were directed to Denarius' estate, where Nero was lead to what could only be described as a cell, in the dungeon. And, after a careful inspection to make sure there was no dirt for him to reach, his chains and gloves were removed and for the first time in more than a week he was able to curl his fingers. Nero told himself the pain was proof they were still functional. Then he was alone.

Nero spent the remainder of the day laying in the small cot he was provided, glad that he at least had a breeze coming in through the tiny window. The food he was given was barely edible, but knowing that he could eat it or starve, he forced it down. This was clearly what Denarius' slaves ate on a regular basis, as he was given fresher food the next day at the behest of his makers. Occasionally a slave would be lead past Nero's cell and he would hear a metal gate open and close, the jangle of keys, and a guard would walk back to stand by the exit. By the time darkness fell on his second evening in Minrathous he found himself missing the sound of conversation.

So when Denarius showed up at his door he was happy to see him, even though the magister told the guard to leave the area. In Nero's naivety he did not suspect what the other man would do to him. Denarius entered the cell, closing the door behind him, and when he smiled at Nero he gave him a small smile and a nod.

Then Denarius waved his hand and Nero was thrown against the brick wall behind him, magic holding him there. He had hit it so hard he could not breathe for a few moments and all he could see was white. When his wits returned Denarius was no longer smiling, instead he was eyeing the slave with something in his eye that Nero did not recognize at the time. Lust and loathing.

"You know," Denarius stood right in front of him now, their chests touching as the magister took a finger and dragged it along Nero's ear down to his jaw "you are a beautiful specimen." he took a small step backwards and his hand trailed down Nero's chest, "I have been unable to accept that you cannot be mine." Nero gasped loudly as Denarius roughly grabbed his crotch, the magister smiled at the sound.

"I cannot buy you, but I know Esperance would not have allowed anyone to touch you, she would want to save you for the Archon. So desperate to please, she is. One can only hope you are as well."

Nero fell from the wall into the magisters arms, but before he had the time to push the mage away he was spun around to face the wall and his hands were held above him with magic. His slacks were roughly pulled down and he shivered in the sudden chill and with the fear that was quickly taking hold of him.

Then Denarius' lips were at his ear and he whispered, "I will take that from you, and when I'm done any damage will be healed so no one will believe you, even if you ever thought to tell on me." He chuckled before sinking his teeth into Nero's shoulder.

That would not be his last scream.


	9. Chapter 9

When Nero woke up he found himself trembling.  _These cursed nightmares, will they never stop plaguing me?_  He suppressed the memory of Denarius' hands as the magister took him and tried not to think about how that first trip to Minrathous crushed his innocence and introduced him to the truth of the world he was made for.

He had won the fight that was arranged to showcase his skills, despite the emotional state he was in at the time. He did not let his makers down, but it was not enough.

"That's it?" The Archon had sneered, "I could just teach a mage to use daggers and get the same result." he rubbed his hand over his face, "However, this is impressive for a first test, but I expect better from your next creation."

And so Nero was rejected, but he was still considered the Archon's property. Esperance had convinced the leader that the full range of Nero's more magical abilities was not yet known and he might find a use for the slave in the future. The Archon told her to keep him ready, in the event that trouble with the Templars arose.

Before Nero left Minrathous with his makers he was branded with the Archon's crest and officially put in the 'care' of Esperance until further notice. He was beaten for the inadequacy of his performance and returned to the Arlathan forest. After several weeks in Denarius' company Nero was more than grateful to be back.

But things did not go back to how they were before they had left.

Nero's existence was well known by then, and suddenly his makers had visitors, and Nero was put on display. He acted as a guard while the magisters conversed over tea, standing still next to the door for hours on end. But this lasted barely more than a couple of months before the requests started. As Denarius had said, Nero was beautiful, and many of the magisters wanted to 'try' him. Their requests were not denied and Nero was sent to...entertain them in the guest quarters, whether they were young, old, fat, thin, single, married. Nero could be purchased by anybody.

At first he fought it, but over time he grew compliant. And when he became compliant and did as he was told the lonely magisters came to the edge of the forest to see him rather frequently. Nero forced himself to view this task differently, and eventually he convinced himself to take as much enjoyment out of it as he could. The act itself was gratifying in some cases, and he shut himself down when he was subject to things that were not pleasant.

The Tevinter Imperium was large, and Nero was rather popular. He was the Archon's property after all, and many took their frustrations with him out on his slave. However, from the conversations Nero overheard he gathered that his new role was a poorly kept secret, but he was not openly discussed, especially not in Minrathous. Nero was not surprised, many of his clients were married and none would openly admit to others that they would degrade themselves to sleeping with something that wasn't even natural-born.

Nero's other lessons continued as well, with an emphasis on his 'magical' abilities. His days were busy and it wasn't until he escaped and had plenty of time to think that he was grateful for not having the time then.

Nero shook his head,  _it is too early to think of these things_. He got out of bed and got dressed. _By the void, I think I may miss some of the magisters, it has been so long since I have had that release._

...

A couple of weeks passed before Hawke heard anything of Nero's hunters. During that time Nero never left the mansion and kept to himself unless called upon. He saw Hawke every few days when he brought Nero food; Hawke knew that Fenris and Nero had not spoken to each other and Nero could not purchase his own food without risk being found. Nero only knew Fenris was still alive because he heard the elf walk by his room every night to get to the wine cellar.

Anders visited Nero a couple of times as well, to make sure he was getting his strength back, which he was,  _thank the maker_. But Nero's most frequent visitor was Isabela, every second night she showed up with a bottle of whisky and some cards. Their card games rarely got very far though, Nero often caught her cheating and they usually ended up drinking as she told stories of her life on the sea. She often asked things about Nero's past but he did not divulge much, they were his memories and he wanted to keep them that way.

When he was in her company he felt parts of his training coming through despite never having made use of it. The art of seduction was not necessary when one did not have a choice in when and who purchased him. This, coupled with Nero's desire for intimacy, had growing very fond of the pirates company a lot sooner than he expected of himself.

Isabela also told Nero about a few of the jobs she had been on with Hawke, and mentioned an Aveline and a Bethany.

"Aveline is Captain of the Guard in this fine city of ours, she's a mannish, awkward, ball-crushing do-gooder." Isabela informed him.

Nero smirked, "harsh, what of this Bethany?"

She laughed, "she's Hawke's sister, she's adorable and so very innocent. And so much fun to tease."

Usually Isabela didn't bother knocking on Nero's door, she let herself in and made herself at home. It didn't bother him very much, but it left him to make an ass of himself the first time she did knock.

Expecting it to be Hawke calling he had opened the door and grabbed her hand in a firm grip. Then he laughed "Sorry, I tend to greet Hawke with a handshake, so far he is the only one that waits for me to open the door for him."

She smirked at Nero as she leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms. Luckily he was already practiced in not staring at her breasts, but it was always difficult. "Hmm..." she purred, "strong hands. Could I entice you to join me when I get a ship as one of my crewmen? I could use those strong hands at my... helm."

Nero smirked back "I get the feeling that that is not the only place you could use my hands."

She laughed and brushed against him as she stepped into the room and threw herself on his bed. "Hmm, I have determined that this is a lot more comfortable than the beds in the Hanged Man, I may have to start staying the night."

"Feel free, my bed is always open to you, Captain." She giggled, Nero had learned quickly that she adored the title and missed hearing it. He chuckled, "I agree it is a damned comfortable bed, but of course I have spent the last couple of years sleeping on the ground...or in trees every now and again, come to think of it."

"Trees?"

Nero chuckled again as he closed the door and sat on a chair by the fire, "generally when people are trekking through the woods looking for someone they are too busy looking for a trail to follow on the ground to look up."

"Good point... speaking of said people..." She trailed off and looked away.

Nero's stomach dropped, "what?"

"Varric has gotten wind of a small group of people looking for an elf with purple eyes. A couple of Tevinter mages and a few armored fools."

" _Tempus_ ," Nero fingered the hilt of his dagger, "Do you know where they are staying, or if anyone has told them anything?"

"No and no, Varric has lots of connections, we'll know more soon."

"Thank you for letting me know." he smiled halfheartedly.

"Aw, your welcome pumpkin. You are far too attractive to go to waste on some Tevinter prick." she rose from the bed and straddled Nero's lap. Suddenly the men chasing him slipped his mind, all the friendly interaction of the last few weeks had his brain very confused. Nero was used to being formal or being alone, now that he had pleasant company, that did not think less of him because of who he was, his personality began to show. He was a lot more outgoing and flirtatious than he had thought he was.

Instinctively Nero found his hands meeting on the small of her back. _So she doesn't fall_ , he told himself, refusing to believe that he was so deprived, that the simple act of a woman sitting on his lap would get him going. Nero scrambled for a thought, he needed to say something, but he was finding it difficult to think.

"Pumpkin?' was what he decided on, with a raised eyebrow.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed. "It's my favorite kind of pie, sweetling."

Nero leaned forward, sliding his hands down to cup her bottom as he nuzzled her neck and murmured "I do like pie."

Suddenly someone was banging on the door "Nero?" Hawke.

Nero stiffened and sighed, Isabela untangled herself from his lap and folded her arms across her chest after she plopped herself back onto the bed.

"Hawke, welcome." Nero said, opening the door and motioning for him to come into the room.

"Maker its dark in here, did you board up the window?"

"I figure if anyone is going to break into this room through the window at least it will be painfully obvious."

Hawke laughed, "I suppose it would. And my dear Isabela, what is this? Are you abandoning me? Am I to keep myself entertained?"

Isabela smirked, "of course not, I am simply broadening my net." she winked.

"I didn't know you could broaden it any more," he laughed again, "but that is not why I am here, our dear Varric has caught wind of where our dear Nero's pursuers are staying."

Nero tensed and his hands rested on the hilts of his daggers again. "Where?" he snarled.


	10. Chapter 10

A Brothel, the Blooming Rose. Nero was unnerved by how close it was to where he was staying;  _they were so close, and I had no idea._

"Well aren't they classy?" Isabela had laughed, "you know, the difference between whores and courtesans is...well, they have nicer shoes."

"I don't think anyone's looking at their shoes" Hawke pointed out, "they should be dealt with as soon as possible. Do you wish to confront them, Nero?"

"I wish only for their death."

 _And so, here we are_. Isabella, Anders and Nero knelt on the roof of the Blooming Rose, above the rooms they were informed that the five hunters were using. This shouldn't have come as a surprise for him, Nero thought, Tevinter mages were not often greeted well when visiting places outside of the Imperium, and brothels didn't often ask very many questions of their clients.

Hawke and Fenris were inside, since their weapons were far too large to smoothly enter the rooms through the windows. They were being backed up by Hawke's sister, another apostate mage. Bethany and Anders were to focus on taking down the Tevinter mages, or to at least distract them long enough for one of the others to end it for them.

 _A sound plan, but they rarely ever work out well do they?_  Nero sighed "lets do this then."

Unsheathing his daggers Nero held them in the palm of his hand as he lowered himself over the edge of the roof with his fingers. As silently as possible he put his feet against the glass and pushed off, propelling himself in the opposite direction. Just before he hit the glass again he let go of the roof and turned to break into the room with his shoulder. Before Nero even had a chance to stand he was grabbed by a mercenary and slammed into a wall, dropping his daggers with the impact. The mercenary's hand was around his throat, a disturbing smile on his face as he squeezed.

Thankfully, before he had enough time to crush Nero's throat, Isabela jumped into the room and her dagger nearly decapitated the man. His blood hit Nero in the face and he was momentarily blinded as he tried to wipe the blood from his eyes.

Spitting blood out of his mouth, Nero heard muttering from across the room, close to the door. He glanced up just as the magister finished casting his cage spell and both he and Isabela were thrown to the floor. It was the first time a cage spell had been cast on Nero and he was momentarily stunned by the invisible weight that was pushing on him, clearly the spell was not meant to kill as it could have crushed his rib cage and lungs in a moment. As it was he barely had enough room to expand his chest to breathe.

Anders stepped between Isabela and Nero, casting a lightening spell at the mage, which glanced off an invisible barrier and shot around the room before dissolving. Anders cursed and began muttering what Nero could only assume was a spell that would break the magisters shield.

"Atticus! Grab the mercenaries and aid me!" the magister yelled as he cut open his arm with a large knife.

The sounds of fighting erupted outside of the door, where Hawke and Fenris had engaged the other two mercenaries, leaving Bethany to face the Tevinter mage alone. Like the magister in the room, Bethany had erected a shield around herself and was shooting ice spells at the other magister as he did the same to her.

Fog began to descend upon the room Nero, Isabela, and Anders were in, and as it did the two rogues felt the spell holding them down weakening. Two shades and a fire demon materialized across the room and Nero put forth new effort to free himself, watching as the magister fled the room. When the mage was gone the spell holding down Isabela and Nero completely dissipated.

Nero grabbed the daggers resting beside him and shot to his feet. Anders, close enough to still see the ex-slave in the fog, said "follow the magister, we've got this"

Nero furrowed his brow in a moment of hesitation "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" he snapped as he shot off more lightening into the foggy room, "go now or this will have been a waste of time!"

Nero nodded even though Anders was no longer paying attention and ran through the door, to stand on a large balcony that stood above a bar, patrons screaming and pushing to get to the front door and escape. Fenris and Hawke had finished off the mercenaries, their bodies in gory pieces on the floor, and had thrown themselves on the mage fighting Bethany. Said mage called forth six shades of his own. The shades demanded the immediate attention of the three companions, giving the two magisters the opportunity to escape. They ran down the stairs and Nero aimed to follow them when a shade materialized in front of him.

He growled as he sunk one blade in its chest and forced the other blade through its neck, effectively decapitating it. The head didn't even reach the floor before the entire creature turned into smoke and faded away. Nero shot through the smoke and ran down the stairs, seeing the front door to the Blooming Rose swinging shut and quickly followed.

Anders and Isabela had made quick work of the shades in the room and emerged to assist the others as Nero was running down the stairs. Fenris spotted Nero weaving through terrified people towards the exit and chose to follow, knowing the others could take care of the remaining shades.

As Nero emerged from the Blooming Rose he saw the mages were quite far away, and knew he could not reach them and hope to subdue them both. Swearing, Nero knelt down on one knee, shoving his fingers in the ground, calling for help from the tree roots he knew were there and asked that they bound the fleeing mages. Looking up he watched as roots erupted from the ground, pulling the mage's staffs out of their grasps, grabbing them by the ankles, wrists and chests and covering their mouths, stifling their yells of alarm.

The screams of fear from the crowd escaping the Blooming Rose dwindled out, the patrons having made their escapes, and in the remaining silence Nero heard the door to the Rose shut and risked a glance behind himself, seeing a wide eyed Fenris, sword tip resting on the ground in front of him. Nero ignored his shock as he returned his gaze to the magisters and quickly approached them, waving a hand over one of them to coax the roots into uncovering his mouth.

"Who knows you are here?" Nero demanded, his voice low and cold, "does anyone in the Imperium know where you have trailed me to?"

"As far as they know we could still be in Ansburg...but..." he chokes as Nero's anger flares, enticing the roots holding him to tighten.

"But what?" Nero snaps.

"We gave a letter to a man traveling to Tevinter, but he's not scheduled to leave till the morning."

"Where can he be found?"

He seemed hesitant to answer so Nero willed the roots to tighten even more around his chest, he winced in pain before answering "his name is Daveth, he trades in silks in the gallows and should be found there."

Nero smiled darkly as he allowed the roots to re-wrap themselves around the mages mouth and then continue to tighten around the two men, crushing their bodies into a bloody mangled mess. Before Nero had the opportunity to turn around to head back to the Rose to ask how to get to the Gallows he found himself thrown against a wall, again. He sputtered through a groan as air was pushed from his lungs for the second time that night.

Nero barely had time to register that it was Fenris holding him there by the neck when he felt an intense, sharp pain in his chest. Through the white fogging his vision he looked down to see that Fenris' arm disappeared into the inside of his body. Lifting his head to look at the white-haired elf he noticed that he was glowing, brightly, his face twisted into a disgusted sneer. The blue light emanating from his tattoos dimmed and Fenris loosened his grip on Nero's neck just enough that he could breath and speak, but the expression remained.

"What the fuck is that?" Nero shrieked after he gulped in enough air to do so.

Fenris snarled, "why did you not tell us you were a mage?"

"Because I'm not!" Nero spit at him, "what the fuck are you? Andraste's tits, your fucking hand is in my fucking chest! Your fucking glowing! What the nug-humping fuck?"

His eyes narrowed as Nero yelled at him but, thankfully, he slowly pulled his hand from the other man's chest and cautiously let go of his neck.

As the sharp pain receded Nero found himself sliding down the wall to sit on the ground, his legs too shaky to support his weight. Nero pulled apart his shirt to get a look at his chest, feeling around to make sure there wasn't some huge hole there that he just couldn't see. When he decided he was still whole Nero let his head fall back and sighed with relief.

His relief was short-lived, however as he felt the sharp gauntlets grab him by the shirt and haul him to his feet, the look of disdain was still on Fenris' face but all Nero could think about was how thankful he was that the elf didn't put his hand back in his body.

'What are you?' Fenris demanded.

Nero said nothing for a long time, his brain still too rattled to think. When he finally settled down he shook his head and tried to pull Fenris' hand off of his shirt 'I don't have time for this, I need to go to the gallows, I-'

"Maker's breath Fenris, let the man go." Hawke's voice drifted over to them suddenly, and the rest of the group strode over to the two ex-slaves, no-one seeming the worse for wear despite the mess that was surely inside.

"Hawke-" Fenris began before being cut off.

Hawke's voice adopted a commanding tone, "let him go Fenris." With a nearly silent growl Fenris let go of Nero's shirt and stepped away.

Isabella strode up to him and inspected his shirt, tsking as she did so "You tore his shirt and put holes in it Fenris, I think that means you have to buy him a new one." she laughed, "you might need help with shopping though."

Nero grumbled, "The shirt is fine, I can patch it up." She pulled his shirt towards her and looked inside at his chest, "Hey now, just because my shirt is torn doesn't mean you get a glimpse of the goods." Nero said as he slapped her hands away.

She leaned back and smirked "How could I not? you are a damn fine specimen."

Ignoring her Nero turned to Hawke "how does one get to the gallows?"

After explaining why he needed to go there,  _right now,_ Hawke gave him some directions that made him furrow his brows in confusion, as he didn't understand where half the landmarks the man mentioned were. Hawke sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well," he began, " maybe someone should go with you, to show you the way."

Fenris spoke up for the first time since he let Nero go, "I'll go. Nero and I need to have a talk."

"Woow," Anders laughed, "Fenris is doing something helpful."

"Shut up, mage." Fenris grumbled.

Isabella leaned towards Anders and whispered "You do know what they mean by talk, don't you?" she giggled.

"Makers breath Isabela, do you ever stop thinking about sex?" he asked.

She frowned, "No, I don't think so, even when i'm sailing my ship its still flitting around in my head."


	11. Chapter 11

"What are you?"

Nero laughed nervously, "What are you?"

He said nothing, clearly waiting for the dark haired man to answer his question.

They were in the Gallows, sitting against a wall near some merchant stands, ready to wait the night out till morning. Luckily it wasn't too cold, and despite the reek of fish and salt water they were relatively comfortable. Before answering Fenris' question Nero set about trying to wipe the dried blood off of his daggers with a rag he pulled from a pocket. He was still trying to recall when they got bloodied, he definitely didn't stab anyone with them.

Nero sighed, stilling his hands and looking up at the stars, regretting the need to have this conversation. "I am...an experiment, other than that I do not truly know what I am. I'm not even biologically elf or human. I'm especially not...natural, by any means." begrudgingly Nero told Fenris how he was made, or what he knew of it anyway. Nero was surprised that he felt...shame in his creation. Wishing that he had been at least born in some natural way. "There are three sources that mages draw on for their powers. The fade, where demons and spirits are, although I'm told magic does not come directly from the spirits or demons unless blood magic is involved. Obviously mages get some of their powers from lyrium, but I don't particularly understand how that works. And then there is the river, this is sort of...a life force, energy that comes from the earth and flows through all living things, it is...also hard to explain. This is where I get my powers, in my creation my life force was drawn directly from the river and when it was put into this body I maintained my connection to it because I did not spend time in a womb where the energy is broken down to form a new essence specific to its growing body."

Fenris said nothing for a few moments, turning it over in his mind. Keeping an eye on him Nero went back to cleaning his blade. Fenris didn't particularly radiate hostility at the moment, but that could change quickly and he was much faster than one would expect of someone wielding a sword almost the same length as them.  _But then...I suppose he could just shove his hand into me again._ Nero stopped cleaning his blade and turned to him.

"Will you tell me what you are?"

Fenris started and looked at him. It was then Nero noticed his eyes had little flecks of dark yellow in the overall deep green. He could see pain fluttering about in them, and a barely concealed anger that Nero did not think was directed at anyone in particular. Fenris quickly directed his gaze to the ground in front of him and after a few moments he furrowed his brow and spoke.

"My...ability, is also the result of an experiment." He extended his arms, the white markings on them glowing softly as his anger rose. "My master cut out chunks of my flesh and replaced them with lyrium. The pain was unbearable, and I lost all my memories of the time before. They still burn, but I have grown used to the pain."

Nero frowned, lyrium imbued into flesh, the idea sounded familiar, but he ignored the thought, he was far too curious about what the elf's markings allowed him to do, so he asked "And the whole putting your hand in my chest thing...the lyrium allows you to do that?"

He nodded, "Yes, I can phase through solid objects and solidify while I'm in them."

Nero choked a little bit, the man more or less almost punched a hole in his chest. Fenris lifted his hand up to his face and growled "I look forward to the day I can use this ability against the one who forced it on me, he will feel at least a portion of the pain he put me through."

Nero nodded and looked away. "He is the only thing standing between you and true freedom." he stated.

Fenris nodded, "to my understanding if a magister kills another magister the first magister is then given the rights to all of the second magisters things. But if I kill him then there will be no one who can claim to own me. So yes, I suppose I will be." he paused and closed his eyes, "I had not taken care to think of what would happen when I killed him, I only ever planned it for revenge purposes...thank you for reminding me."

Nero slowly turned to face the elf, he was leaning back with his eyes closed with a slight pained expression on his face. As though the idea of being free did not exactly comfort him.

"I envy you that at least." Nero sighed and rubbed his face with his hands "Even if I were to kill the Archon there would be another to take his place. I am property of a government. I will always be hunted unless they decide to give up on me."

Fenris' eyes opened and he furrowed his brow, he looked at Nero momentarily but quickly looked away, resting his gaze on the ground in front of him.

"I am sorry." he mumbled.

Nero was momentarily stunned by his apology, he did not seem the type to offer condolences very often.

"It is not your fault." Nero replied.

After a few moments of contemplative silence Nero returned to wiping off his dagger with the rag. Realizing his companion did not appear to have anything to do himself, he took another one out of his pocket and handed it to him, Fenris nodded in response and set about wiping down his sword.

...

Hearing people speak in the courtyard Nero roused himself out of his doze and noticed that Fenris appeared to have fallen asleep.  _Strange, I do not imagine he usually sleeps so easily around strangers, especially out in the open._ Nero looked down at the white-haired elf, his head rested on Nero's shoulder but his body was fairly limp, the only sign he was still alive were the soft sounds of his breathing accompanying the rise and fall of his chest. His curiously white hair almost looked to be glowing in the sunlight.

For the first time since Nero had met him his facial features were relaxed, not drawn into a scowl as Nero had become used to seeing. With the calmness affecting him now Nero could tell that the elf was a lot younger than he had thought he was. Nero had assumed that Fenris was older than him, if not the same age. But he appeared to be quite a bit younger than Nero's body was. Nero found out not long before he escaped that he was residing in a body that was 24 years old. Now he was 28 but it looked as though Fenris was in his early 20's.  _What a shame_ , I thought,  _the life of a slave is no easy one, mine wasn't as bad as it could have been but I do not get the impression Fenris had an easy time of it_. The elf was a lot sterner than Nero was, by far.

Nero sighed and watched the people milling about the stalls before glancing back down at the man sleeping on his shoulder. He was stunned by how beautiful Fenris was without anger or sadness marring his features. Shaking his head Nero turned his thoughts to more pressing matters, namely, how he was going to wake the elf up without putting his life in imminent danger. He settled on a simple method and mumbled his name, shaking his shoulder a little bit.

Fenris grumbled and slowly opened his eyes, then he seemed to realize where he was and what position he was in and jumped up, looking about suspiciously. Inwardly groaning at the loss of warmth at his side Nero also stood up.

"What are the chances you happen to know who actually sells the silks around here?" Nero asked, dusting himself off.

"Poor, but I am assuming we might find who we are looking for by asking around that cart that is currently being loaded with crates." was Fenris' deadpan reply, apparently he woke up quickly.

Nero rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, "smart-ass."

When he opened his eyes again he saw a slight curling at the corner of Fenris' mouth before he turned away. Nero would almost call it a smile...almost.

After Nero explained his plan Fenris strode across the courtyard carrying his daggers, turning left into a large alley that he had informed Nero was there and would still be rather shadowed at this time of day. As he did that Nero turned around a similar corner on the side of the courtyard that they had waited, he was pleased to find a corner of shrubbery and a large dirty puddle in which he did what he could to wash any blood off of his face and neck. Done with that he hid his leather armor behind the bushes and thanked the maker that his shirt was black and therefore any blood on it wasn't visible.

Feeling far too exposed Nero strode across the courtyard, hoping that no one would look to closely at the color of his eyes. Not for the first time he caught himself wishing that he was able to change their color.

Trying to relax his shoulders and arms to appear non-threatening, he approached the cart where there were two men loading crates and being directed by a third one. Walking up to the third man, Nero tried not to eye the locket hanging from his neck. he asked "Are you Daveth, the one who trades in silks?"

He turned towards Nero with a scowl on his face, "aye, I'm busy in case you haven't noticed, go away."

He looked away when he was done speaking and Nero looked again at the locket, noting that it appeared to be made of gold and its chain didn't look very strong. How convenient.

"Well, this is a message from you know who." Nero said before quickly pulling the locket from Daveth's neck and jogging away around the corner.

Nero tried not to laugh as he heard a yell and Daveth running after him. Before Nero turned the corner he spared a glance back and was pleased to see that the merchant was running after him alone, his men laughing and watching from their spot near the cart. Taking into account Nero was being chased he had to fight down the strong urge to full-out run, but he knew the man wouldn't even have a hope of catching up to him if he did. And he wanted Daveth to think he would catch me, otherwise Nero was sure the merchant wouldn't have bothered with the chase.

After turning the corner Nero headed left down the only alley in the smaller courtyard. As he made his way into the shadows he saw Fenris waiting and their eyes met for a moment before Nero jogged past him. When Nero heard the grunt of a man being thrown against the wall he turned back around.

Fenris was holding the pudgy man to the wall with one arm across his chest and his hand across the mans mouth to stop him from screaming, trickles of blood were trailing down his face where the fingertips of Fenris' gauntlets dug into his skin.

When Nero approached Fenris nodded to him and he told the man "You will only be able to nod or shake your head no. Do you understand?" A nod. "Good, you were given letters to give to people along your journey, were you not?" another nod. "Are they on you?" I saw fear in his eyes before he shook his head. I tsk'd "I thought it was a given that you weren't to lie to me. I'll ask again, and if you lie this time I assure you you will regret it. Are the letters on you?" the man paused before he nodded.

Nero smiled before he reached under Fenris' arm and felt papers in the breast pocket of the mans vest. Pulling his vest open, he grabbed the letters and rifled through them. He had to go through at least seventeen envelopes before he found one with a Tevinter seal.

"They might have given this man one that didn't appear to be meant for the Imperium in the circumstance that something like this would happen." said Fenris, the man began shaking his head and mumbling loudly from behind Fenris' hand before his grip tightened, effectively subduing the trader.

"This is a valid point...I guess I will just have to take them all." Nero pulled his dagger from its scabbard that Fenris had tied around his waist and raised it to the mans throat before he looked at the elf, "I apologize in advance if I get blood on you."


	12. Chapter 12

After hiding the body behind a few barrels further back in the alley they made their way back to Hightown. It was uneventful and neither of them spoke, Nero was tired and couldn't be bothered to initiate a conversation and Fenris was deep in thought.

When the two men got back to the mansion they went their separate ways, Nero stoked the fire in his room and tossed the letters in, one by one and watched them burn. When all that remained of the papers were red coils he had a very quick, but thorough, bath before having a much needed sleep.

Nero woke in the late afternoon, and had another bath, he was irritated to find that his previous bath failed to wash the blood completely from his hair and ended up washing it several more times before he was satisfied it was all gone. Absentmindedly he found himself thinking he should cut it, he hadn't had a haircut since he had run away from the Imperium.

Nero spent the rest of the day cleaning his blades properly and searching the rooms in the house for clothes so he could wash the ones he was wearing. He found a pair of brown pants that needed to be rolled up at the ankles and even after tying them they hung off his hips. Moving on Nero then found a shirt that might have once been white but was now a dull gray, he swam in it and made a pathetic attempt at tying the cords at the chest but they kept coming undone so he left them loose.

Nero washed his clothes and placed them on the tiles in the courtyard. On his way in he glanced up the stairs towards the room Fenris occupied but the door was slightly ajar and no light streamed out so Nero assumed the elf was out. Before heading to his room Nero grabbed a few bottles of wine and was surprised to find Isabela lounging on his bed, picking at her nails with a knife. She sat up to lean on her elbows as he entered and set the wine on a side table before sitting in a chair.

"Well hullo there my sexy little elf." she smirked.

Nero smiled "Isabella, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

She reached for one of the bottles, used the knife to un-cork it and took a big swig. Watching her throat as she swallowed Nero felt a twitch in his pants, which only twitched more when she pulled away from the bottle and licked the red liquid from her lips. "I do believe a celebration is in order!" she beamed.

He laughed, "for killing the hunters? There will be more, there always is."

She frowned a little, before smirking again and winking at him, "Are you spurning the opportunity to celebrate? I am offended."

"Don't be, I am not spurning anything." Nero smiled as he stood and stepped towards the bed, as he was kneeling down to her she slipped under his arm and stood by the door; he turned with a pout.

"Don't look so disappointed Nero, I just have to visit the ladies room."She winked as she turned to leave.

"Tell me if you find any ladies in there would you?"

She raised her hand in a rude gesture before turning the corner. He laughed and, picking up the bottle she placed on the floor, took a long drink and laid himself down on the bed, trying not to think too much.

By the time she returned he had begun to doze and started when he heard the door close, Nero smiled and opened his mouth to speak but was stopped short. She had taken off her boots, necklace, and gloves and was twirling her small-clothes around her finger, a mischievous smirk on her face, her eyes twinkling in the firelight.

Nero realized his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut as she made her way to him, laying on the bed and straddled his lap she leaned over and trailing her tongue along his ear. Nero grasped her hips, shivered and failed to stifle a moan. She giggled.

"I see you have sensitive ears pet, I can only imagine where else you are sensitive" she said with a wiggle of her hips. Nero groaned, his erection quickly making its way from semi-hard to painfully hard. He could feel her heat and wetness and would have come undone right then if he did not have years of control at his beck and call.

However, as far as his control went he still couldn't stop himself from putting his hand into her hair and pulling her towards him, thier lips meeting in a heated kiss. Her tongue slid along his bottom lip almost immediately, asking for entrance, and he obliged. She moved her hands to his chest, which caused her to wiggle again where she sat on him and he whimpered into the kiss.

She nibbled on his lower lip before pulling away, "I am a terrible tease, aren't I?" she laughed.

Nero growled and pulled her back down to bite along her collarbone roughly before going back to sooth the area with his tongue. He slid his hands down her back, wishing she had taken off her shirt as well so he could feel her skin, before cupping her ass and pulling her forward a little bit so he could reach easier. He was pleasantly surprised by how wet she was when his finger stroked along her cleft and she quietly moaned in his ear.

He smiled into her shoulder before he readjusted and, snaking a hand under one of her legs, he plunged two fingers into her. She ground into his hand hard, groaning loudly as she grabbed his hair and turned his head to the side to lick a long trail from his throat to his ear and back again. He hissed as she swept her tongue along his adams apple and gently sucked just over it.

She lifted herself off of his fingers and settled back on top of his groin without actually touching it, her hands gliding under his shirt, scratching and exploring as she continued to kiss along his collarbone and started to lick his chest as she slowly moved down. Her hands had scratched their way to his nipples and she gently squeezed them. Nero almost yelled out as his back arched, and he felt her smile against his skin before she grabbed the hem of his shirt, sat up and pulled it over his head.

She was on her knees straddling him with her hands on her hips as her eyes roved over his chest and stomach. Nero arched an eyebrow, "I hope all is to your liking." he smirked as he raised himself to his elbows.

"Mmm..." was her only reply as she bent down once more, now straddling his thighs as her tongue lazily made its way down the center of his abdomen to his bellybutton, where she circled around it. At the same time she ran her hands up his body, hands flitting over his abdominal muscles and ribs before teasing his nipples again.

He fell back to the bed and groaned loudly. Her mouth finally reached the hem of his pants, which were already ridiculously low and with each touch of her lips to his skin a dull spark of lightening shot through his groin. As she kissed along his abdomen from one hip to the other his cock poked her in the chin.

It was then he realized what she intended to do and raised his head "A-are you really going to-" he began, she looked up at him questioningly before nodding and slowly starting to pull his pants down, her tongue finding its way to the dip of his hips. "I have never been on the receiving end of- unnngh" his pants were now around his knees and her tongue had followed the hollow to his groin which then led to his balls, and she was gently suckling on them. His fingers dug into the sheets as her fingers scratched along the inside of his thighs.

Nero whimpered again and frowned as she pulled away, "do all elves have so little hair?" she asked as she pulled his pants completely off.

"I think so yes" he gasped, she trailed her fingers through the short fuzz surrounding his cock before placing his legs on each side of her and settling in. She nipped and licked along his inner thighs and his fingers found themselves digging into the blankets again. She traced her nails along the underside of his cock, pulling away before she reached the head. Then he was surrounded by the hot, dampness of her mouth. He arched his back and bit back a yell.

She flicked her tongue over his head and, reaching her hands up to his torso again, she dragged her nails down his chest, making him hiss from the multiple sensations. She took Nero deep into her mouth, her nose not quite close enough to touch his skin. Her cheeks hollowed, sucking as she pulled up, making a quiet popping sound as he was released from her mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and found himself gasping for breath. She lowered her mouth once more to his cock and sucked gently on the head as she pumped the shaft with her hand.

"uuuungggh... I'm not going to last Isa-" he gasped as she laughed, her mouth still on him. He could feel the rumble and soon after he was arching his back, spilling into her mouth. She continued pumping as she sucked him dry. When finally she raised herself to get a drink of wine he felt like he was sinking into the mattress, his legs felt like jelly and he could not speak for several moments.

She lay beside him and giggled.

"Did I hear you say you never had someone do that to you before?"

Nero swallowed and nodded before turning his head to look at her with his arms stretched above his head, still unable to move. "Magister don't pay to suck cock." he mumbled, his voice unsteady.

She frowned and pushed the hair out of his face, her eyes skimmed his body before she smirked again. "Are you out of commission for the night now?"

He laughed softly, "Not yet, but I should probably wait till I can move his legs before I do anything."

She laughed again, leaning on her elbow and resting her head on her hand, the other one trailing over his chest. "I suppose I'll be patient for now, it better be worth the wait."

Nero smiled, he could safely move his arms now and did so, pulling the neckline of her shirt away from her body with a finger and looking in, "Of course, I was trained by the best."

She raised her eyebrow, and her hand stopped moving "...trained?" she frowned.

He let go of her shirt and laid back, looking at the ceiling.

"I did not quite tell the truth in the clinic that day. When I was presented to the Archon he disapproved. But the magisters present when it happened did not. When we got back to the forest my makers began receiving letters...requests to...bed me. Some because they hated the Archon, some because they hated their wife or husband." Nero sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "The first time... I performed poorly, my makers were angry that they had to refund the magister. I am still not sure if they hired or kidnapped him, he came from Antiva, and his skills were often sought out specifically. They said he was a popular whore, and that he would teach me how to please others. And so his lessons were worked into my ...schedule, as it were. "

He glanced up at Isabela again, her mouth had formed a small 'o' so he tried to smile reassuringly.

"I was basically a concubine, I oftentimes wonder how much I went for." he chuckled softly, hoping a small joke about his past would help alleviate any pity she felt for him because of it.

She leaned over him, grabbing the bottle of wine again and taking a long drink from it before passing it to him, he did the same.

Nero smiled widely and laughed, "I shudder to think that so many magisters must face their sexual frustrations without my assistance."

She laughed with him this time and he reached for the wine to place it back on the floor. Nero leaned over Isabela, forcing her to lay on her back. Her golden eyes glittering in the firelight as he leaned down to kiss her, nipping at her lips, and scratching his hands along her breasts. When her nipples hardened he toyed with them through her shirt.

He stopped and pulled away, smirking "So, how does this shirt come off?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content in this chapter too, though, not very much. Sorry this chapter is so short. Also, I'm going to start using third person in chapter 17 because i want to share what other characters are doing when Nero isn't around or whatnot...which is awkward to do when Nero is telling the story..sorry for any confusion that may cause..anyhow
> 
> enjoy!

His name was Arsenio, but he preferred to be called Sen by his friends. He was a short human, his skin the color of caramel, eyes reminiscent of emeralds. His dark brown hair fell to just below is shoulders and he usually kept it tied back.

He had faint wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, which seemed to only add to his charm when he laughed. He was kidnapped from Antiva, and when I first met him he had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was tangled and greasy, and his clothes had blood stains on them.

We were both brought into an extra guest room separately, one meant for servants or extra body guards if visitors had any. I was told to clean him up and get to know him, he was going to train me and we would be spending a lot of time together. The door was locked and we turned to face each other from separate ends of the room.

His bright green eyes eyed me suspiciously, I slightly tilted my head to the left, slowly trudging through my mind for something to say. I had never been left to communicate freely with somebody. Magisters would not have me talk around them, during training I followed orders and was told not to ask questions, and the other slaves always seemed frightened of me.

"I-" I heard myself whisper, so I cleared my throat to speak louder. "Did...did they heal you? I can't heal, uh, but I could try to...um, I could clean any wounds you may have." I felt confusion riddle my features as I stepped forward, with the intent of untying his wrists where they were held together with rope. He flinched back.

I froze, and tried to sound reassuring when I said "I do not know what they told you about me, if anything, but I do not intend to hurt you."

He considered what I said for a few moments and then stepped forward and offered me his wrists. It took me a few moments to untie the knots and when I did he stepped back again, confusion on his face.

"I am not sure what else to do now," I confessed, stepping back. "The bathroom is through that door, I presume that you do not need my assistance. But you are free to ask for it."

He offered a small smile, "I think I can handle it myself, thanks." and he disappeared behind the door.

Unsure of what to do with myself, I sat on the edge of the bed, then I lay back and stared at the ceiling as I waited for him to finish. When he did he came out wearing only a towel around his waist, sitting up I found myself staring at the soft musculature of his abdomen and chest. When I noticed that he was watching me watch him I turned away, heat rising up my neck and reaching my ears.

He laughed, a beautiful sound, I didn't hear it often. "It's okay, if I didn't elicit that reaction then I wouldn't be very good at my job would I?"

I didn't respond as he searched the dresser and found himself a shirt that was too large for him and pants that fit, though tightly. He sat on the bed next to me and gently grabbed my chin and turned my head to look at him.

"It is my understanding that I'm meant to teach you how to appease sexual needs others may have," his thumb gently rubbed against my jawbone as he spoke and I found myself getting lost in his eyes, "but I'm getting the impression that you don't have any experience in this area." I closed my eyes and shook my head.

He rubbed his thumb along my bottom lip as he said "you cannot please without knowing what it is to be pleased. So the first thing I do is show you how enjoyable it can be."

I opened my eyes in surprise when I felt his lips on mine, he pressed his thumb down on my chin, indicating I should open my mouth. So I did and then his tongue was exploring my mouth, my eyelids fell and I whimpered. It felt like something was exploding in my chest, and I enjoyed it.

One of his hands moved to the back of my neck and he used the other one to press on my shoulder, gently pushing me into the mattress as he swung his leg over me and straddled my lap. His lips left mine and kissed a trail along my jawbone till he reached my ear where he trailed his tongue to the tip and nibbled gently on it. I groaned and felt him smile against my ear before he moved back to my lips. I found my hands reaching under his arms to curl around his shoulders and pull him closer to me. Apparently this was the correct thing to do and soon I was moaning as he ground against my erection, creating a friction there that was not unpleasant.

What followed would be what I can only consider my first time making love, and I am ever grateful to him for that experience. Sen became my light in the darkness, he taught me about more than just the act of seduction and sex. I learned what it was like to talk to someone without them being afraid of me nor telling me to keep quiet. He was my friend and confidant, he comforted me when I was hurt and brought a smile to my face that I'm not sure had ever been there before. He introduced to me what it felt like to live.

A few months after he had arrived it became necessary to bring in a female to assist in my training. This was mentioned to my makers and so they threw a slave in for us. She was skin and bones, dirty, and crying because she was frightened of me. Sen took her to the bathroom, cleaned her up, and did his best to soothe her nerves.

We spent the first few days nervous around each other, but after some time in each others' presence, and some small talk, she stopped being afraid of me and I grew comfortable around her. Her name was Bird, she was a slave working under the gardener and had very dark skin, her hair was brown and had natural highlights made more apparent due to all her time in the sun. She was an attractive human, which was just as well, considering what I had to do to her.

She was terribly embarrassed about the whole situation, as was I, I now know that I had grown feelings towards Sen and having him watch me sleep with someone else, much less giving tips and instructions on how to improve, was extremely unnerving. I had some difficulties performing at first, but as with all things, it passed with time.

I quickly realized how small my own room was, all three of us had to share the room. Thankfully we were given more blankets and pillows, but that did not make sleeping on the floor any better. We let the girl take the cot, while Sen and I took the floor. Even when I fell asleep away from him I would always wake up with him in my arms, I found this made sleeping on the floor tolerable.

After he was gone it took years before I finally stopped yearning for someone I cared for in my arms, specifically him. I forced myself to accept that all I would have was the harsh coldness of the magisters.


	14. Chapter 14

Isabella ended up staying that night, although she told me not to expect it, she was just too tired to head back to the hanged man. And so I had warmth in my arms for the first time in eight years. It did not matter that I didn't have romantic feelings towards her, that I knew she didn't think of me as an 'it' was all I needed.

I wasn't surprised when I woke up and she was already gone. She did not show up for the next few days, no one did, and I grew restless, so the fourth morning when I woke up I decided I would get dressed, grab my weapons and brave the wrath that was Fenris.

So I made my way through the mansion till I was in front of his door where I took a deep breath and knocked.

"What?" I heard his gruff voice answer from the other side of the door.

"I was wondering if you would be willing to do me a small favor."

I heard a loud sigh and the sound of a bed creaking, footsteps towards the door and a click as it was unlocked. "Let yourself in." he grumbled.

The sight that met me was a very generous view of his naked back as he put a shirt on. The tattoos swirled everywhere, disappearing into his pants, sprinkled with light scars. Although there was a large knot of flesh over the back of his ribs on his right side. But my eyes were more drawn towards watching his muscles as they tightened and moved like very hypnotic snakes under his skin as he lifted the shirt over his head.

I didn't realize I was entranced until he glanced back and asked "enjoying the view?" with a raised eyebrow.

I started and scrambled for something to say, settling with a small smirk and "...maybe."

However, my smile failed when he turned around with a scowl "what do you want?"

I scowled back "I need coin, I was hoping you could tell me where I might find some work to obtain it."

He turned to grab his armor and began putting it on as he explained, "Hawke often finds small jobs and brings some of his friends along and shares the spoils or payment. However, I do not know where he finds these jobs."

"Okay, so where would I find Hawke?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"At the hanged man," a sigh, he swung his sword onto his back and walked past me out the door. "come, I'm going there now."

And now here I was outside of Kirkwall heading to Sundermount so that Hawke could take some amulet to the Dalish clan residing there. Isabela was teasing Fenris, Hawke was chatting with Bethany and Varric told me the story of how he got said amulet.

"...and they were surrounded by Darkspawn, their disfigured faces snarling and taunting them. When a high dragon swooped down, and scorched the rock with her powerful flames, her iridescent scales of blood red and deep purple absorbing the light as opposed to reflecting it. She made quick work of the darkspawn before her, sweeping her massive and elegant head through them, catching a hurlock on one of her horns. And as the tormented screams and death cries died out around them the dragon stood and morphed into a regal woman. She was both old and young, beautiful yet ugly-

"-and a goddamned dragon!" Hawke exclaimed, throwing his head back and laughing.

Varric sighed dramatically, "yes, I already explained that Hawke. You have no appreciation for storytelling, it is a very specific magic."

I rose an eyebrow, trying to hide my smile, "so how does this story end?"

"She asked us to deliver this amulet to the Dalish here in payment for getting us to Gwaren and for saving us from the darkspawn." Bethany said

Varric threw his hands up in disgust, "so anticlimactic!"

I chuckled, "So who was this woman?

"She said she was the Flemeth from the legends," Hawke answered, "well...she alluded to it anyway, I might as well believe it, the woman was strange. I don't think she ever even slept, and her hair looked like horns, and she wore feathers on her shoulders. What is it with mages and feathers?" he laughed.

Suddenly there was a commotion up front, where Isabela and Fenris were.

"So what duties did you have? As a slave, I mean?" Isabela asked.

"Not this again." Fenris stopped walking, in hopes that Isabela would leave him alone. Bethany, Hawke and Varric just walked past them as Isabela continued to prod him.

"I heard that Tevinter slaves are kept oiled so they glisten. Did your master oil you up? Did you glisten for him?"

"I was his bodyguard." he growled and began walking again, leaving me to walk behind the two of them.

"Always close at hand. Always within reach. Glistening." Isabela said in a far-off voice, her mind running away with her.

"You have an entire story written in your head already, don't you?"

"Mmm." she purred

After a few moments of silence Isabela slowed her pace to walk next to me. "What about you Nero, did you glisten?"

I laughed "I hate to disappoint you, but no, I did not." she pouted "tis more difficult to keep a hold of something that's oiled up, don't you think?"

"This is true," she tapped her chin, gazing towards the sky, thinking, "but surely some of the magister's you...entertained, would have liked to see you glistening."

I tensed and frowned, not noticing that Fenris also tensed when Isabela referred to the mages in Tevinter.

"There are other ways of making one... _glisten,"_ I muttered "... magisters tended to prefer those methods over oil."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her mouth form into a silent 'O' then guilt took hold of her features, she mumbled an apology and made her way to the front of the group. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to ignore the unpleasant memories tickling at the edge of my mind.

I ended up falling into step beside Fenris, with Varric and Bethany in front of us and Isabela hanging off of Hawke's arm in the front.

I trudged along silently for a few minutes, my mind twirling with memories of my blood, chains, whips, rough hands, screams, sharp pain, and dull aches when I was left alone. I closed my eyes, trying to force the images away.

"Fenris," I spoke quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear, "Say something, anything...please."

He said nothing for many minutes, so I finally opened my eyes, silently grateful that I didn't trip over anything while they were closed, and sneaked a glance at him. His eyebrows were knit together, but he wasn't scowling, and there was a faint redness to his cheeks that wasn't there before...he looked like he was thinking, hard.

"Never mind." I muttered, looking away.

"No...I..."he sputtered before giving up and scowling again, clenching his fists.

It was then I heard Bethany's voice drift back to us, and I found myself listening to a conversation between her and Isabela.

Bethany asked, "I guess you've been with a lot of men, haven't you?"

Isabela shrugged her shoulders, "Men. Women. Elves. A dwarf in drag once, but I don't remember that."

"O-oh." Bethany quietly responded.

"Aaaaawww!" Isabela gushed, clapping her hands. "you're blushing! Why? How many lovers have you had?"

"Good lord," Hawke groaned, speeding up his pace, "this is not a conversation I need to hear."

"Then shut you're ear holes, puppet." Isabela suggested, "back to the question at hand, how many Bethany?"

"I-I never..." Bethany stuttered.

"You're a virgin? Hawke, you've been holding out on the poor girl! Get her a night at the Blooming Rose. On me!"

A blushing Bethany replied "that's, um, very generous."

"I'm a giver." Isabela said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Maker's breath," I muttered "that woman is going to corrupt the world with sex."

Fenris snorted beside me, and I had a small moment of surprised satisfaction before Bethany and Isabela's conversation continued.

"So, you've been with women. In bed?" Bethany asked, a confused tone to her voice.

"I know, shocking, isn't it?" Isabela quipped, "You see, sweetness, men are only good for one thing. Women are good for six."

"Six? Which six?"

Hawke finally turned around with an exasperated "Isabela!"

She laughed and we continued our trek with Isabela moving on to tease Hawke, Varric telling outlandish stories to Bethany and Fenris and I taking up the rear in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I need suggestions for a nickname for our dear Nero, Varric has given pretty much everyone else nicknames so why not, eh? Also i can't seem to think of anything that isn't terrible.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm going to post two chapters today for two reasons, 1 - they are both rather short and 2 - i got my first review and im uber pumpt. 
> 
> And so i dedicate these two chapters to Alazaaster00 on fanfiction.net. Thanks so much!

My dagger swept through what would have been the stomach of the corpse in front of me, frantically waving its sword around, teeth gnashing. When my blade broke its spine it fell to the ground, lifeless, like it should have been in the first place.

When we arrived at the Dalish camp we were informed that there was a ritual that had to take place for the amulet and that the Keeper's First was to accompany us further up the mountain to perform it. When we first met up with this Merrill I was taken aback and almost turned around to go back to Kirkwall.

The woman looked like Esperance. A _lot_ like Esperance. The short dark haircut, the deep green eyes, even the tattoo on her face was eerily similar. Instead of leaving, however, I just clenched my fists, tried not to ground my teeth too loudly and trailed as far behind as I could as we climbed up the trail leading to the top of Sundermount.

And now here we were, fighting the risen undead, and I was trying desperately to ignore that the woman was using magic as well. Luckily I had all of these shambling corpses to take my anger out on.

I swung my blade and buried it into the empty skull of another corpse, when I tried to pull away my blade wouldn't break free. _Shit!_ It also didn't stop the damned thing either, and I almost got tagged by it's rusted blade before I kicked it in the spine to break it in half like I did with the other one. I bent down to tug my blade free, instead the head came off with it. I sighed in frustration even as I heard the creak of another one behind me, so I frowned and collided the skull on my blade with it's face. The two skulls shattered and the corpses body crumpled to the ground, to join the half dozen others around me.

And then the corpses in my little area were gone and I looked to the others. Varric was alternating between shooting arrows and stabbing at any corpses that Isabela didn't take down before they reached him. Hawke was furthest up the mountain forcing back corpses as they lurched towards the mages, who were busy casting their spells. And Fenris was...where was Fenris? I skirted around the others as I made my way back down the path we had just come from, knowing he hadn't gone past Hawke.

My assumptions were correct, before I even turned the corner I saw a faint blue glow through the trees and heard the unmistakable sound of metal hitting bone. Fenris was there swinging his sword in an arc around himself, re-killing a few of the corpses and forcing back most of them. There was blood dripping down from under his hair and I couldn't stop myself from being surprised, he was surrounded by corpses, more than were in the clearing I had just come from. And he was taking them on by himself.

I cursed and kicked off my boots as I ran into the fray, my daggers pointing outwards to at least damage some of the corpses before I reached his side. If he saw me he did not acknowledge me, but I pressed our backs together and unconsciously buried my toes in the dirt knowing I needed as much contact as possible.

His sword was still swinging which left me with only his side to grab onto when I reached behind me to anchor him. I pulled the essence of the river towards myself, collecting it in my body, my eyes glowing slightly at the concentration I was containing within myself. Then I simply pushed, and the essence I had gathered turned itself into an invisible force, throwing the corpses away. As they hit the ground it opened up, pulling the bodies into its depth and crushing them as the dirt forced itself back into the holes it had created. Then...

Silence.

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when voices drifted from around the corner where the others were, their corpses gone as well. A heavy tiredness fell onto my shoulders. Strongly hoping I wouldn't have to do that again today I opened myself up as much as I could to the river and let it slowly flow into me to replace what energy and power I lost. Even so I slumped as I struggled to catch my breath.

"You can let go of me now." A gruff voice said behind me.

I started and quickly pulled my hand away.

"Sorry." I muttered, straightening and re-sheathing my blades before turning away and rejoining the others.

...

Before we reached the caverns that would take us through to the altar where we were to take the amulet to perform the ritual we ran into another member of the Dalish clan. It was then we found out that Merrill wasn't exactly popular with her people, despite being the keepers first. Although she didn't elaborate as to why, instead apologizing for the in-hospitality that the clan showed us before entering the caverns.

And then the spiders, oh maker, the damned spiders. Unlike the corpses these were more bloody and lively, although they didn't take a whole lot of effort to kill. I made the mistake of tearing one open along its back and got spider guts all over me. I didn't have time to do much about it though as more spiders showed up, I made sure to simply stab them.

When the spiders were gone and Hawke glanced around to make sure everyone was still standing he burst out laughing.

"Maker's breath," he sputtered, trying to catch his breath, "What the devil happened to you?"

I was already scowling so I sighed in response, I still had some very liquid guts dripping from my hair and off of my chin. Not to mention the mess all over my daggers. I flicked my blades one at a time, sending viscera flying before wiping them on the back of my pant-legs and re-sheathing them. Bethany, chuckling while everyone else laughed at my expense, offered me a rather large handkerchief.

"...I didn't know they would explode" I mumbled, trying to squeeze the gore out of my hair.

"Yes well, somebody probably could have mentioned it." Bethany said after she forced herself to stop giggling, "sorry about that."

I sighed, "I think I need to get my hair cut, this is ridiculous."

We continued through the caverns, Hawke smacking me on the shoulder as he apologized for laughing so hard. I shrugged my shoulders, figuring that I probably would have laughed if it had been someone else.

By the time we made it to the other end of the caverns, and back out on the mountain, we had dealt with some more skeletons and a shadow assassin. Thankfully we had also stumbled upon a small puddle, so I got to rinse out my hair some, although I knew I would be spending quite some time in the bath when I got back.

In spite of the 'facing creatures intent upon my death' thing, or perhaps because of it, I was in a relatively good mood. I had a place to stay, I had acquaintances that I had started to consider friends, and I was making use of my skills for reasons of _my_ choosing. Despite having been 'free' for more than two years I had never quite felt it as much as I did at that moment.

My good mood did not last long however, I was trailing behind the others when we approached the shimmering, barely-there, blue barrier.

"I can open the way forward, one moment." said the Dalish elf.

And then she pulled a knife out and sliced through her wrist. As the blood fell it stopped short of hitting the ground and rose, swirling around her. After a few moments she was engulfed in a red cloud of her own blood and, throwing her arms forward, she sent it into the barrier where the red almost appeared to absorb the blue. Then it was over, and she turned around to face the group again.

I was backing away before she even finished and was already back in the caverns before anyone had the chance to speak.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some violence and torture and such, you have been warned.

_I was screaming so loud that my ears were ringing, the back of her hand connected with my cheek and I couldn't hear after that. Which was just as well, I didn't want to hear the hissing and rumbling from the demons around me. Fire trailed across my chest and over my shoulder burning through so many layers of my flesh that I wondered how she would ever restore me. I chocked on the smoke and tried not to think about what my burning skin smelled like. I felt another nail fall from my hand where I had my fists clenched so hard that the nails were tearing from my fingers as they got caught on the fleshy part of my mangled palms._

I vomited as the memory of cooking skin assaulted me, a memory so intense that I struggled to remember that I wasn't there anymore. I looked at my hands, to reassure myself that everything was still there and forced myself deeper into the caverns. If I had been even mildly aware of where I was I would have been extremely thankful that no spiders or corpses appeared. I would not have survived an attack in that state.

_She used her magic to enthrall me and forced me to watch as the demons tore into the gardener's slave, tearing her skin as they adopted human-like forms to take her. The act was that much worse knowing that they did it for no reason other than to hear her screams and watch her tears and blood flow freely from her. They had torn the flesh from her chest long before they finished with her. The tattered remains of her breasts rising and falling - the only sign that she was still alive. The only thing keeping her conscious was the spell cast on her with her own blood._

I tripped over a rock and cut my hand on something in the dirt as I stumbled further away from the others. I had forgotten these memories, I had pushed them down and forced myself never to contemplate them again. I convinced myself many times that it had just been a nightmare, no one could be that demented. But they could be, and they were and I would rip my eyeballs from their sockets if I really thought that would stop the memories.

_There were other mages, with their own slaves. Enthralling was popular among this group. Enthralling and manifesting demons. And so the slaves were bewitched into thinking the other members of the orgy they were partaking in were also elves or humans. But they were not, they were demons and they were playing with remains that were spread around the group. When a claw scratched or tore into a person moans would be heard, these people convinced that they were enjoying what was happening to them. And yet I watched, I watched the blood, the gore, and the sex, helpless to look away._

The sun hurt my eyes when I re-emerged from the caverns and skirted around the Dalish camp. When I licked my lips I tasted the salt from my tears, and when I tried to wipe them away I only managed to spread the blood from my hand all over my face. I made way to a small stream that we had passed on the way up the mountain and delved myself into the rather menial task of wiping off my armor, clothes and cleaning my body. And for a moment I was able to convince myself that nothing happened and that I would be fine. But it took only a second for my thoughts to lapse back.

_The healing was almost as painful as getting the wounds in the first place. When other mages cast healing spells they generally added magic for pain relief as well, Esperence would never be so kind. Muscle tissue stretched and forced itself back together, flesh bubbled into healthy skin where it had been burned away, broken bones moved and scraped against each other to get back to where they were supposed to be. My torn vocal cords burned as they tried to mend despite my attempts at screaming. I was finally released from where my wrists were chained to the wall and I fell to my feet before my legs collapsed and my knees cracked against the stone floor._

_She grabbed me by the hair, trying to drag me to my feet, but they kept slipping in the blood and maker knows what else on the floor. Even if I had the physical strength to stand I'm not sure I would have. I may have stopped screaming and I may have been mended on the outside but inside I was trying to force flimsy walls up to protect myself from the horror around me. My mind felt just as shredded as my body was moments before. Not even her voice could make it through to me, and it took me days to register that I was back in the cell and that somebody had been force-feeding me while I hid inside myself._

I didn't remember getting back to Kirkwall, and I was surprised to find myself before the mansion. I shook my head and pushed my way through the door. Once in my room I threw off my armor and stood in just my clothes, staring at the gray stone under my feet. For many minutes I did not move, nor did I think. And then the anger crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Yelling I grabbed the leg of the chair closest to me and threw it against the wall where it splintered and fell to the floor, broken. I tore the blankets off of my bed and ripped them apart before grabbing a couple of my knives and slashing at the mattress. I held the remaining chair in the room by the back while I pounded it against the floor, small shards of the wood flying back at my face. When that chair was sufficiently destroyed as well I yelled one last time before turning to the wall and punching it, the rough concrete tearing apart the skin over my knuckles.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a couple of bottles still standing on my nightstand. Faintly I remembered Isabela leaving them behind when she had spent the night, they were mostly full bottles of some sort of whiskey or rum. I grabbed them and made my way to the courtyard where I plopped myself down at the foot of a tree and proceeded to get properly sloshed while the sunshine beat down on me.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from here on out the story is going to be told in third person. Its a lot easier and more believable to write it this way.

It was only after the dragon flew away that they noticed somebody was gone. Hawke remembered seeing Nero leave the cavern with them but he did not recall seeing him since. And so they spent more than an hour searching and calling his name just outside of the cavern before Varric said that he found footprints over top of their footprints, leading in the opposite direction.

There was more concern than irritation as to why Nero had left before them, this being the first time the sort-of-elf showed any signs of being unreliable. They trail disappeared before they reached the Dalish camp and spoke to the Keeper Marethari, so Hawke sent Isabela, Varric and Fenris on to see if the trail picked up. The sun was setting when Hawke, Bethany, and Merril were leaving the camp and they came across Varric; he informed them that Isabela and Fenris had gone ahead when they picked up the trail again. If either of them found Nero they promised to bring him to the hanged man.

When Isabela and Fenris arrived back in Kirkwall they made their way to the mansion, silently passing by men lighting lamps in the streets and merchants closing their stalls.

"You have been uncharacteristically quiet." Fenris mentioned to Isabela, "One would almost think that you were actually worried."

"Of course I am! He is a good lay, and I cannot find him." She laughed, "what an inconvenience."

Fenris snorted and they continued in silence until they reached the estate. They came across the mess in his room and shared grim looks but did not comment on it. Upon searching the mansion they found an empty bottle in the yard, but no signs of Nero.

"Maybe he is at the Hanged Man?" Fenris suggested.

Isabela furrowed her brows in concern, "I doubt it, but I'll look. You should stay here in case he returns. Try _not_ to maim him too badly, it would be an injustice to the world if you ruined that gorgeous face."

Fenris rolled his eyes and headed up to his suite. Leaving Isabela chuckling as she left the estate. On her way to the hanged man she made sure to look down alleyways and almost took the initiative to ask a couple of people if they had seen him, but decided against it despite the cold concern she felt in her chest. In an attempt to smother these feelings she forced herself to draw up memories of Nero naked, naked and moaning, naked and pleading, getting naked, partially naked...she chuckled in spite of herself. _I do hope he has found his way to my room, what a perfect end to the day it would be to walk in on a very naked man pleasuring himself on my bed, mmmm..._

Hiccups interrupted her thoughts and she glanced over to an empty stall that usually sold bread. She did not place the source of the hiccup until another one sounded. It was only then she noticed the person leaning against the leg of the table, facing the wall, a tangled wreckage of black hair covering his face.

"Nero?" despite being a frequent drinker herself she still had to force herself not to recoil from the harsh smell of rum that assaulted her senses as she approached the languid form. She had to say his name a few more times before she got a reaction in the form of him turning his head to look in her direction, his glassy gaze taking a lot longer than necessary before it could focus on her.

"Is...Isabe...*hiccup*...Izzy?" he slurred as he shifted his position to face her, and then he smiled a big toothy grin and held his arms out as if for a hug, "Izzy! T'is you! You lerft ...hiskaayy...I founded it and it tasteseses " he giggled as he held up the mostly empty bottle, "irt tastes gerd, yoo shud 'ave sum!"

"Maybe in a bit, I should probably take you to the hanged man. Try not to vomit on my shoes." Isabela tsked, she took the bottle from his hand and helped him up. He stumbled and put his arm around her shoulders, humming a tune, as she dragged him towards the tavern. She took note of the deep scrapes and dried blood on one of his hands, when she inspected it more she found another gouge on his palm. "what did you do to yourself, Nero?" she mumbled, but he didn't reply. His hair seemed less gory than before, but there were shards of wood in it and it was a tangled mess gathered into a poor excuse for a pony tail.

When she got him to the hanged man she put him in a chair at the table of Varric's suite where he immediately put his head in his arms and groaned. Isabela chuckled, a wry smile on her face, "all that rum is finally getting to you, is it?"

She heard a muffled 'no' before Nero raised his head again, "is juss too bright in here. Hurts me eye, it does."

"What's wrong with your eye?"

"Nuffink, is juss drunk!" He laughed.

Shaking her head slowly Isabela turned towards the door saying "I'm going to get you some water...and something to eat. Stay here."

At the bar she had to settle for some of the tavern's leftover bread from lunchtime, the cook was out for the night and that was all they had. So she asked for a pitcher of water to be brought up to Varric's room and, after eyeballing the bottle of rum in her hand added "gimme a shot glass too, I think I'm going to need it."

By the time Hawke and Varric arrived from dropping Merrill off at her new home in the alienage Isabela was fairly tipsy and had switched over to ale after she drank the remaining rum. Nero was sobering up although he was still having a hard time convincing the world to stop spinning. The empty bottle and plate lay in the center of the table and Isabela had herself laying half across it, giggling as she tried to wrap Nero's wounded hand.

"Nero, good to see you alive, what happened to you today?" Hawke asked, settling himself in to the chair beside Isabela. When he realized what she was trying to do he took over for her, despite her protests that she could do it. "What happened to your hand?" he added.

Nero met Hawkes gaze with a guilty expression. "I apologize Hawke, the Dalish girl, she reminded me of things...I needed to get away. I should have said something to someone, but I didn't think to at the time." Although still slurring his words a bit, Nero was making an obvious effort to speak clearly, and he nodded in thanks when Hawke tied off the bandage, "I tripped on the way back, it doesn't hurt at least."

"I think the more pertinent question here," Varric interrupted, walking behind Nero to sit at the head of the table "Is why there is a bunch of hair on the floor."

"That was me!" Isabela said cheerfully, "Nero's head was a birds nest, so I set the little birdies free." She giggled.

"Isabela, are you drunk?" Hawke laughed, taking her drink from her he took a sip and cocked an eyebrow at her "from...is this ale form the bar? How much did you have to drink of _that_ to get this drunk?"

"I drank it 'cause the rum is gone!" she chuckled, snatching her mug back and taking a long drink.

"Sorry about the floor Varric, we tried to clean it up as best we could, but I'm still pretty drunk myself. I also couldn't convince her to wait till tomorrow to do it" Nero offered with an apologetic smile.

Varric shrugged, "its alright. That you've been drinking does explain why you would let her go near your head with something sharp in her hand." he laughed.

"Does it look ok? I haven't seen it yet, although she keeps assuring me that it's a 'masterpiece'."

"Actually, it's not bad." Hawke said as he eyed the man's shorter hair. Nero's black locks were now cut into a bit of a shag. Because it was now only a few inches long it was curling at the tips and falling into his eyes, despite Nero's attempts at keeping it pushed back. "I'm surprised Isabela, I didn't know you were a hairdresser."

She laughed "when I'm out at sea it gets very annoying hearing the men complain about their hair. Boys are such women at times, besides, someone needed to doll them up when we reached port. They had to look good for the lasses you see"

Hawke smiled coyly at her, "and I'm sure cutting hair was the _only_ method you used."

She gasped dramatically, "of course Hawke! A smart captain never sleeps with her crew, it upsets the balance of power. Once you start shaggin' a sailor he thinks he has something on the others."

"I can't tell if that's a legit excuse or if she actually did sleep with them." Varric said to Hawke.

"I'll never tell!" Isabella giggled, finishing her drink with a flourish. "I need meself some more liqueur." she said, standing up.

As she stumbled out the door Hawke sighed loudly and also stood, "I'll go make sure she gets there and back safely."

Nero smiled crookedly, "I never knew the trek from your room to the bar was so treacherous."

"Evidently you don't come here often enough then." Varric chuckled.

Nero smiled but didn't reply, absentmindedly toying with the edge of the wrap Hawke had tied around his hand. His mind jumped from one topic to another rapidly, without actually hanging on to anything long enough to form a coherent thought. He desperately wanted to fill in the silence before Varric could-

"So kid," Varric began, "you sure you're ok?"

Before Varric could inquire about _that_. Nero sighed and leaned back in his chair, "I'm fine." he let his hands rest on the table and smiled before adding "I'm doing exceptional now that I can actually see sort of straight and it doesn't feel like the world is spinning so fast."

Before Varric could reply he heard Isabela's voice yelling downstairs followed by a crowd of cheers, "were you tanked before or after she got tossed?"

"Before, I think." Nero laughed, "from what I remember she seemed to feel left out. Or maybe she was angry that I accidentally-on-purpose drank her rum. Don't look at me like that, she left it in my room."

"I'm not surprised to be honest." Varric smiled fondly, "just try not to get too attached to her, kid, I know you're both sharing a bed, but I think she has a thing for Hawke."

"I've noticed, she teases him like it's going out of style and I'm sure she has had ample opportunity to bring him to her bed, but hasn't. I don't know much when it comes to courting someone, but from what I can gather that's what shes been doing. Thanks for the concern Varric, but I know my bed isn't really the one she wants, I'm okay with that."

Varric leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder, but before he got the chance to add anything Hawke appeared in the doorway, "Isabela finished off another glass and dragged some girl back to her room, and forbade me from watching," he smirked, "but it's getting late, before heading home I was thinking I should take you back to Hightown Nero. If you run into trouble I think it would be better if you weren't alone and weaponless."


	18. Chapter 18

The trip to Hightown didn't go as smooth as Hawke had originally anticipated. It turned out Nero had been sitting down for quite some time and when he stood up he quickly found out that he was still pretty drunk. Nero apologized repeatedly as he leaned on Hawke, only stopping when he started to get a headache - to which Hawke was thankful.

When they made it to the front door of the mansion Hawke thanked Andraste and the Maker repeatedly for keeping the streets empty before dragging Nero through the door and to his room. Hawke toed the door open and then paused as he took in the wreckage.

"I forgot." he heard Nero mumble before he separated himself from Hawke and leaned against the wall.

"Um..."Hawke rubbed the back of his neck, looking around, "I'm going to go get Fenris, stay here, okay?"

When Nero didn't respond he shrugged his shoulders and headed down the hall to the entryway, where he met a bedraggled Fenris coming out of his room.

"I take it you found him?" Fenris asked with a yawn as he climbed down the stairs.

Hawke nodded and explained what Nero had told him at the Hanged Man, "apparently he was quite drunk too, although he seems to be over the worst of it now. I still haven't been able to decide who was more intoxicated, him or Isabella. Probably him, he did let her cut his hair." he chuckled.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Fenris' mouth but he didn't say anything. The smile disappeared as the silence stretched, becoming more uncomfortable by the second. Fenris forced himself to ask if Nero had mentioned what happened to his room.

Hawke frowned, "no, I didn't even know about it till just now. It almost looks like an angry tiger got loose in there."

Silence descended upon them again and Fenris shifted uneasily under the other man's gaze. Hawke smiled as he stepped forward, "sorry to have woken you when I brought him in, you must have been sleeping for some time. You're adorable when your hair is a mess and you have indents from your pillows on your face." he said huskily as he gently trailed a finger down one of the indents on the elf's cheek.

Fenris started at the touch, but did not push it away, instead bringing his eyes to meet the other man's gaze. He only held it for a moment before looking away and stammering "I-I thank you, Hawke."

Hawke sighed in faint frustration before stepping past the elf and asking "will you be able to handle him on your own? I should probably head back home before Bethany or Mother have a hernia over how late I am." he smiled crookedly as the elf nodded and headed out the door.

Fenris suppressed a shiver, as usual he was both unnerved and intrigued by his interactions with the man. And confused, terribly confused. He was not the same man he was when he was a slave, and he did not react to things now the way he would have years ago. When Hawke complimented him, _touched_ him he did not know what he was feeling, and he could not tell if he enjoyed it. He only knew he was not disgusted or insulted by it. And despite his confusion he couldn't stop himself from being thrilled. He was feeling something, a new emotion that he could not remember feeling before; this was why he could not stop himself from exploring it, even if he wasn't sure how.

He shook his head to disperse the thoughts. His feet softly padding against the stone tile as he made his way to Nero's room. When he got there he found Nero sitting on the floor with his legs splayed out in front of him, his head bowed and his hands in his lap, palm up, as though to prove he had nothing. The only light in the room came from the embers dieing slowly in the fireplace.

Fenris sighed as he realized that he couldn't leave Nero to sleep off the liqueur here, and that it would take him most of the rest of the night to make a fire in any of the other rooms. Flint and Fenris did not get along well, he would never admit it to the others but there _was_ a reason he left some sort of flame in his own fireplace at all times.

Thinking Nero was dozing, if not entirely asleep, Fenris reached towards him with the intention of nudging him awake, "Nero-"

"Fenris," Nero's eyes met Fenris' as he raised his head, causing Fenris to freeze in shock at the agonizing sadness that he saw there. "How do I stop the past from defining me, and make it nothing more than something that I have lived through?"

Slowly Fenris retracted his hand and stood straight, his brow furrowed as he tried desperately to think of an answer. He grew irritated with himself when he found he had nothing to offer the seemingly hopeless man before him. "I do not know." He said as he turned his gaze to the floor between them.

A few moments passed before Nero nodded and forced himself to stand. He rubbed his face hard with the palms of his hand and forced a small smile to his face before turning to the elf.

"That's okay, I will figure it out."

Fenris cocked his head as though he didn't quite understand, choosing not to respond he delved back into the reason he was there in the first place. "You need to sleep, but you cannot do it here. Speaking of - what did you do in here?"

Nero smirked as he looked at the mess before him, "ah, well the chair was angry at the bed, you see. Something about the table that I couldn't quite understand. When I tried to stop the fight things got a little hectic."

Before he could stop himself Fenris snorted and smiled. Shaking his head he turned back to the hall and headed to his room, motioning for Nero to follow him. Nero followed, barely stumbling now, privately pleased that he got a sort-of-laugh out of the broody bastard. This feeling was soon replaced by apprehension and confusion as he realized where Fenris was leading him. Unsure what to say, he decided to stand silently in the center of the room while Fenris shut the door.

"You can sleep in my bed," Fenris explained, "I will sleep in a chair."

Nero shook his head, "I appreciate the offer, but I will not take your bed from you."

Fenris scowled, "what do you propose then" he asked as he crossed his arms across his chest.

After glancing around Nero replied "I am more than okay with sleeping on the floor."

Fenris sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "that is unacceptable. Take the bed, chances are I wont even sleep again tonight."

"Why are you even going this far for me? I expected you to be more furious than ...accommodating."

Fenris blankly looked at Nero. _Strange_ , he thought, _he is right, I should be angry, were this to happen with anyone else, I'm sure I would be. Instead I only feel...understanding. How unnerving._

"I do not know." He replied as Nero yawned, his jaw cracking. "Go to bed, Nero."

Nero scowled at the elf, "only if you give me your word that you'll use the bed if you want to go back to sleep. Wake me up or push me out of it if you want to, I don't care. But I won't be responsible for you not partaking in a comfort that I'm sure you never had in the Imperium, even for one night."

At first Fenris was too stunned to reply. He did not expect that the other man would have such consideration towards his comfort. But he knew he should not be surprised, Nero would be more aware of what he was used to than his other companions. But still he found himself appreciating the gesture and agreeing to give his word despite knowing that he would not be going back bed.

And so Nero took his shirt off as he made his way into the shadowed corner where the bed was. Silently he slipped between the sheets and quietly moaned at both the comfort of the mattress and the slight warmth left from when Fenris had been sleeping. Despite this, or because of it, he wasn't sure, he had a difficult time falling asleep and was rewarded when he heard Fenris mutter from near the fire. When he finally fell asleep it was with a small smile on his face.

"I do like the new haircut."


	19. Chapter 19

Before he even had time to assess that he was awake he was already being forced into acknowledging the pain that shot from temple to temple in his head like lightening. He winced and rolled from his side to his stomach, trying to push the headache from his head into the pillow. As he moved he faintly recognized a queasy feeling beginning somewhere in his midsection.

Slowly the sharp pain subsided into a dull ache and he risked turning his head sideways and opening his eye a crack. When nothing bad happened he opened them all the way, his vision filling with red silk sheets and dusty furniture. He blinked, confused. _Where the void-_ catching site of the table and the rest of the rooms furnishings it clicked into place. _Ah yes, Fenris' room, where is he?_

Slowly he rose to his hands and knees, the blankets falling off of him. He shivered at the chill that swept across his back and winced as he felt a sharp ache above his eye. Raising a hand to the spot he rubbed it, as though he was massaging his brain and it would stop hurting. It didn't.

He did not remember getting home, he barely remembered returning and finding his room was a mess, he definitely didn't remember actually _leaving_ the mansion the day before. _That was the point in drinking that much though, wasn't it?_ He had to give himself that one, he wanted to forget, and he did a damned good job of it.

He sat on the bed, folding his legs under him and after contemplating the pillows he pulled one towards him and hid his face in it. Groaning he swore to never get drunk, ever again. Ever. His limbs were shaky, his head hurt, his mouth felt fuzzy and he felt like his stomach was a bowl of water balanced on the end of a staff, if he moved too much the bowl would fall over and he would get sick all over the place. _I don't think Fenris would appreciate that_ , he thought to himself.

Pouting he sat up straight, wincing as his eyes reintroduced themselves to the light. He was reaching forward and searching under the pillows and blankets for his shirt when Fenris walked in.

Fenris, having not gone back to sleep the night before, had done his training exercises in the main hall before heading out for a short walk. As he was heading back to the mansion he stopped at a few places and picked up some breakfast. Despite his uneasiness at the foreign but thoughtful mood he was in, he picked some up for Nero as well. He had the sneaking suspicion that the man wasn't going to be feeling well this morning and felt the urge to at least _try_ to ease his hangover.

And so, he was standing in the doorway with a bag in one arm and a pitcher of water in the other, watching as Nero searched for his shirt. He felt the oddest stirring of...something...in his groin as the muscles twitched and moved across Nero's broad shoulders and back. Broad for an elf that is. The feeling was similar to how Fenris sometimes felt when he was with Hawke, but he also found that it wasn't the same at all.

Scowling he forced the thought and feeling from his mind and placed the bag and water on the table at the same time that Nero grabbed his shirt from the floor and slipped it on. Nero swung his legs over the bed, his toes skimming the floor.

"I'm not sure what the proper etiquette is when one wakes up in another man's bed." Nero said, with a slight blush on his cheeks, "so, ah, thank you for your hospitality." with that he stood, and in a flash the blush was gone and his face blanched white. He leaned against the bed-post with his arm wrapped around his stomach, bending over slightly.

Despite himself Fenris chuckled and motioned to the table, "despite what you may believe, you will feel better if you eat something."

"I don't believe you," Nero grumbled as he stumbled toward the table and gently plopped himself into a chair. "in fact, I am sure that this is some sort of demented plan of yours to kill me and get the mansion to yourself again."

"Hardly, you did this to yourself." Fenris replied as he sat down on the opposite side of the table and took some items from the bag, passing them across the table to Nero. When all Nero did to respond was scowl at the food before him, and wrap his arm tighter around himself Fenris sighed and pushed the water towards him. "Drink at least, most of the reason you feel so bad right now is because you are dehydrated."

Nero reached for the pitcher and after realizing there were no glasses around he drank right from it. He was surprised to find that he really was quite thirsty and he had to pace himself so that he wouldn't drown. When he finally put the pitcher back down on the table he found that Fenris was watching him with a cocked eyebrow and had frozen mid-chew on a piece of roast.

Sheepishly Nero looked away, "thank you... for the water I mean...and everything else."

Fenris grunted in reply and then an uncomfortable silence fell upon them. Nero was eating painfully slow and every few minutes Fenris could see the other man glance up at him with an expression of confusion before quickly looking away. He kept himself distracted by finishing his breakfast and ignoring that he felt unsure of himself around the other man. Not since he had left Denarius had he felt this unsure of himself, and for the life of him he could not figure out why.

The fire crackled and popped occasionally, but even this did not penetrate the silence. Fenris scowled, he was a man of few words but right now he felt a great need to speak. He needed to say something and the thing that kept pushing to the forefront of his mind was asking how the other man felt, or what happened the day before. He found himself wanting to know about his experience as a slave, he wanted to know how to differed from his. He wanted to offer something, anything to stop the pain Nero so obviously still felt from it.

Fenris did not like these thoughts, the last time he had experienced anything similar was when he was a slave and he often worried about his master's mood and well-being. He used to wish for his master's health and happiness constantly. Denarius had always been a far gentler person when he was happy, and when he wasn't then Fenris suffered.

Fenris sighed quietly, and stared blankly into the dying fire. Memories of the torments Denarius would inflict upon him going through his head. There was no doubt that Nero's experience in Tevinter was terrible, but Fenris could not imagine it being on par with Denarius' abuses. The man was twisted and vile, corrupt and power-hungry. Fenris had been in many estates and had been in the presence of many magisters while he was enslaved, and he had not had opportunity to meet any that were quite as cruel as Denarius. No, Nero could not possibly have had it as bad as Fenris had. Of this Fenris was sure. How could Nero smile so easily or be so carefree if he had?

And so Fenris stepped out of his comfort zone and took it upon himself to speak first.

"Have you ever been to Seheron?" he asked. Nero started and looked up from his food before shaking his head. As Fenris spoke he poked at the fire, so he did not have to see the pity that he was sure would grace Nero's features as he told him stories of his life in Tevinter, and how he had escaped his master. If he had been looking he might have been surprised to see the acceptance and understanding that were there instead

...

It was late in the afternoon when Nero excused himself from Fenris' room and decided he should face the daunting task of cleaning his now destroyed room. As Fenris had regaled him with stories of his enslavement a memory nagged at him. But he could not quite recall what it was and so he did not tell the elf about it. Instead he listened, wondering the entire time if Fenris was suddenly so open with him because he realized that Nero was most likely to understand what he remembered of his life or if something had happened the previous night that Nero could not remember. He hoped it was the former, he did not relish the thought of forgetting something that would break through _that_ tough exterior.

Despite the grim nature of the story Nero found himself enjoying himself. Fenris' voice was captivating, it was almost surprising that the elf dint have gangs of women begging him to take them away. When he said as much Fenris seemed so utterly appalled at the idea that Nero couldn't stop himself from laughing, even as he stood in the doorway of his room he chuckled at the memory. It was extremely difficult not to be attracted to the man, it still amazed Nero that Fenris seemed so unaware of his own sex appeal. He still wasn't sure if he was glad or disappointed he didn't try to get the elf in his arms the night before, but then for all he knew he had tried.

Nero sighed and began to drag the broken chairs into the hallway, probably only to be tossed into an empty room later on. During the morning Nero had repeatedly found himself thanking Andraste that Fenris did not ask questions or try to dig into his past. Fenris may not have been free for much longer than Nero was, but he was definitely a lot more open about it. He did not try to hide that he had once been a slave, instead he wore it almost like a badge; proof that he earned every free breath he took. Nero was not so proud, Fenris openly taunted the idea of slavers or his master trying to claim him, Nero preferred to hide the nature of his origin. Both because he was not human nor elf, and because he was a slave. Nero had to continually remind himself that neither Fenris nor Isabela nor any of the others had any wish to turn him over to slavers. He had a price on his head, a large sum of money in reward for his return to the Archon of the Imperium. Dead or alive.

And yet Nero found himself sharing some details of his enslavement with others, ones he deemed minor. When he spoke about his life at times it felt like he couldn't stop, like each word he spoke took some of the torment from the memory. Even so, he was ashamed, he did not necessarily want the others to know what he had been used for, and he did not tell Isabela that he had been less than a whore because he trusted her to keep it to herself. Rather the opposite in fact, he was sure that she would tell the others and then they would know and he wouldn't need to feel guilt for lying to them nor would he have to tell them and see any disgust it may bring forth in them.

He dealt with his past the only way he knew how, by ignoring the brutal details and begrudgingly accepting the rest. The night before had not been the first time something had triggered a memory he had shoved away, and it surely would not be the last. A part of him knew that if he could tell somebody about it, somebody he knew wouldn't think less of him for it, that it wouldn't be so bad. But how did he trust somebody that much, how could he expect anyone to not change their opinion of him when they found out what he had done and what had been done to him? Nero shook his head and forced his thoughts in another direction.

Fenris spoke of things that Nero was sure weren't easy to speak about. He did not go into detail but the elf had hinted at some torments and punishments that he had gone through at the word of his former master that almost reminded Nero of his own experiences. Fenris had been very open, almost as though he had forgotten Nero was there as he stared blankly at the fireplace.

There had always been a noticeable difference between how Fenris acted in a group or out in public and how he acted one on one. He always seemed to speak easier when there weren't so many people around, even if he still didn't speak much. He was not as suspicious nor as tense. Nero would almost say there were times when the elf seemed sort of _happy_ when they were alone in the mansion.

A small smile crept on Nero's face at this thought. He was half-asleep, and still feeling a little ill when he decided it was far past time to find another bed and pass out in it for the rest of the day. He found a decent bed in a room a few doors down from his own and, flipping over the pillow, he lay down on top of the blankets and promptly fell asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHANCE to submit nickanmes for Nero  
> I'll mention your name in the next chapter if i use the one you submit

"Got the place back to normal, I see." Isabela smiled at Nero from the doorway. It took him about a week to get all the shards of wood and bits of the mattress out of the room, then he salvaged identical furniture from other rooms. _It's almost like it never happened_ , he thought. And as far as he was concerned it never did.

He looked up from the book he was reading, he had found it when he was looking for a new bed, it was about a romance during the second blight. "Isabella, come in." Nero said as he put the book down.

"No need, we're going on an adventure!" she beamed, passing him the belt holding his daggers.

"Are we." Nero raised an eyebrow as he put it on, not completely sure if he was actually going to go.

"Of course, Hawke got an invite to some shop called the Black Emporium under the city. And he extended the invite to us." She grabbed his arm to drag him from the room before his boots were even tied and he had to focus not to trip over them.

When they reached the entry-way of the mansion they joined an un-impressed Anders, who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

"So," Nero began, "where's Hawke-" he was cut off by the arrival of Hawke and Fenris, Hawke explaining the letter he had received.

"-It also came with this charm that allows me to enter the place. Apparently if I give it to somebody else there will be 'unpleasant consequences'." He stopped as he reached the others.

Fenris scowled at Anders before turning to Hawke "Let me get this straight, you are going to drag us to an unknown location given to you in a letter that also includes some magicked charm. Sounds like a fabulous idea." he rolled his eyes as we piled out the door.

"Well, I'm not going alone," Hawke laughed, "I figure if anything bad happens I've got your big sword and exceptional skills to protect me." He winked, and Fenris looked away in an attempt to hide the blush creeping up his neck.

"And what about the rest of us?" Anders asked.

"I have to hide behind someone," Hawke replied, "although now that I think of it, I don't think I would hide very well behind Isabela or Nero, looks like your my human shield."

"Wonderful." Anders grumbled.

"If the abomination does not want to be here, let him leave." Fenris growled to Hawke.

"Say it a little louder why don't you, I don't think everyone heard." Anders hissed.

Fenris stopped walking and turned to Anders, "Maybe I should, then-"

"Alright boys," Isabela interrupted, pulling Anders away.

Nero motioned for Fenris to keep walking, and soon Isabela was leading the group, the directions in her hands, and Anders helping her maneuver through the streets of Darktown. Hawke trailed behind them occasionally commenting on the instructions as Fenris and Nero brought up the rear.

"He has a point." Nero said.

Fenris scowled "Who does?"

"Anders, talking about what he is in places where anyone could hear is not the greatest idea."

"He _is_ an abomination," Fenris growled, though quietly, "He is a danger to everyone around him, he should be stopped."

"If you really believe that then why haven't you gone to the Templars?" Nero smirked.

Fenris scowled, a few moments passed before he answered, "Hawke does not wish for him to be taken. The abomination remains free because I owe Hawke, that is all."

Nero snorted "he doesn't look like any abomination I've ever seen, I don't know if you have noticed that."

"It does not matter. He is a _mage_ ," Fenris spat, "and he willingly allowed a demon in his body."

"From my understanding Justice is not a demon."

"You have not seen Justice in action. Why do you stick up for him, out of everyone I would have expected you at least to understand."

"Things here are not like they are in the Imperium, surely you can see that."

"No, but all mages are the same." Fenris insisted.

Nero sighed, "and what of Bethany? Are you saying she is the same as a magister?"

"No." Fenris snapped before looking away, he was unsure of how to continue, so he said nothing.

But Nero was not done, "Your anger is misplaced, you are blaming all mages for-"

"Mages are a risk," Fenris cut off, clenching his fists in anger, his tattoo's starting to glow. He did not understand how Nero of all people did not understand, did not see mages for what they were. "You are ignorant if you do not see that."

Nero stopped and grabbed Fenris' arm to stop him as well, Fenris was surprised to find an angry fire in the depths of his purple eyes. Quickly he pulled his arm out of the other man's grasp, "Do _not_ touch me." He hissed.

Nero ignored it, instead stepping forward so that they were chest to chest. "Do not _dare_ ," he spat, "You have no fucking right to tell me I am ignorant of mages. I can assure you I've known many mages more _intimately_ than you have. I know that they have to face demons all of the time, trying to entice them into a perfect deal. Who the fuck are you to judge them when they give in?"

Fenris put his hands on the others chest and pushed him away. "I would not make a deal with a demon, no matter what they offered."

"What makes you think that? How many times have you had a demon come to you and give you a solution to all your problems, or bribe you with freedom, or your memories. How do you _know_ that you wouldn't give in?" He was yelling now, and he did not care.

Fenris took a step forward, beginning to raise his fist before Hawke stood in his way. At the same time Isabela dragged a fuming Nero to where Anders still stood some distance away.

"What's going on Fenris, you seem to fighting with everybody today. It's only been half an hour for the Maker's sake." Hawke asked.  
Fenris folded his arms across his chest and clenched his jaw, refusing to answer. Hawke sighed, he turned away and paced, rubbing his hand through his hair as he thought. Fenris watched him carefully, not knowing what to expect. Hawke was fretting and Fenris fought against guilt for making him feel that way. _It is not my fault, I am in the right_ , he reassured himself.

Suddenly Hawke stopped pacing and faced Fenris, the familiar look he always wore when he made a difficult decision upon his face.

"I will send Anders and Nero back." He said simply.

Fenris gaped, stunned that the man would send people home because _he_ wasn't getting along with them. When Hawke turned to inform the others Fenris stopped him by placing a gauntlet-ed hand on his arm. Hawke stopped and turned to the elf, eyebrow raised in question.

For a moment Fenris stood without speaking, realizing that this was the first time he had actually _touched_ Hawke, skin-to-skin. It was softer than he expected.

"Don't," Fenris looked away and let his hand drop back to his side. "I will endeavor to be more courteous."

Hawke grinned, "I love when you get serious, you use such big words."

Fenris let a small smile grace his lips as he spoke, "I do hope you understood them."

Hawke laughed at this, "Barely, but I got the jist."

"Apparently Fenris is funny, who knew? Did you know Nero? I sure as fuck didn't." Anders said sarcastically with a raised eyebrow as the two made their way towards them.

Nero shook his head, "there's more to him than mage hating and lyrium." He said, then his brow furrowed, "I think."

Anders chuckled, "Lets get this stupid trip over with. And pray to the Maker that its a trap. I would love to fry some bastards today."

...

"I feel dirty."

"Then stop looking at it."

"I can't."

"Have you even tried?"

"...maybe..."

Fenris sighed and left Nero to stare at the naked statue of Andraste. to him it was just another naked statue, but Nero seemed drawn to it for some reason. _It's probably the breasts_ , he decided.

They had made their way through Darktown into some tunnels leading even further down and were now spread about the Black Emporium. Fenris eyed the Urchin standing by the rickety bridge that lead to the door on the way out. He had tried to engage the boy in conversation earlier but had been ignored, and when Hawke had tried to jar the lad, they had been reprimanded by the desiccated remains of a corpse, (or several corpses, it was hard to tell) in the center of the room. It was propped in a chair, a red book covering some of its face, surrounded by glowing lanterns. And apparently it was alive.

"Don't manhandle the Urchin! He's not for sale. Find your own!" it had croaked.

They left the boy alone after that, but Fenris was still wary of both him and the Golum, and the corpse that turned out the be Xenon; the one who had sent Hawke the letter. The shop was circular and held some of the most unique items Fenris had ever seen. Isabela was staring into a strange mirror, poking at her face. Anders was looking over a table that held various bottles and vials. and Hawke was digging through a chest filled with random bits of armor and weapons.

"Please don't fondle Andraste." The voice said again, with what might have been a chuckle, or a grunt, or a cough.

Nero jumped and finally left the statue, he slowly walked around the circle, eyes trying to take everything in. He finally stopped beside Fenris.

"What do you think he is?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Fenris hadn't notice the man's approach. He wondered if the argument from earlier was really forgotten, as it seemed to be, or if Nero would bring it up again some time where others could not interfere. He hoped not.

"Xenon." Nero pointed "That. It speaks, sort of. Not well. What do you think it is?"

"Looks like an old corpse to me." Fenris replied.

Nero snorted, "thank you for the insight."

"Were you really just fondling the statue?" Fenris smirked as he turned towards Nero.

Nero quickly looked away, but not before Fenris saw the slight blush on his cheeks. "...No," Fenris snorted, "shut up."

"Have you seen the box of screaming?" Hawke said as he joined them, "Its a maker-forsaken box, and it screams. And that's it, it just screams."

"Did you ask it if it needed help? Maybe its like _that_ , what do you think it is?" Nero asked with a laugh, motioning towards Xenon.

"An old corpse?" Hawked asked with a shrug.

"Thats what I said." Fenris told him.

"Damn you both." Nero muttered before turning away to pull Isabela from the mirror, but she told him she saw a gray hair and was trying to find it. She demanded he help.

"You don't seem as interested in the merchandise as everyone else, Fen." Hawke said.

"Fen?" Fenris questioned.

Hawke smiled, "its a nickname. Better than 'broody' at least."

Fenris shrugged it off and eyed the boy again, "I find the Urchin unnerving."

"I have noticed you eyeballing him...I would have expected you to be more wary of the Golum." Hawke chuckled, "do I have to beat the boy up? I am getting terribly jealous that he is taking so much of your attention."

Fenris froze for a moment, before looking again at Hawke, only to see the sly grin he had on his face. He looked away again and swallowed loudly.

"Uh...I-I- um..." He stammered, running his gauntlet through his hair and trying to pull his thoughts together.

Hawke chuckled softly, "maybe my jealousy is unwarranted then."

Fenris ignored the eyes he knew were boring into his head, "it is" was all he managed.


	21. Chapter 21

They had spent most of the day in the Emporium and by the time they emerged from the Undercity into Darktown the sun was setting. Rays of light reflected off of the bronze statues of slaves hanging from the cliffs Darktown was set in, even still it was very dark when Anders bid them farewell and they made their way to Lowtown.

"Either of you coming to the hanged man?" Hawke asked Nero and Fenris as they passed by merchants closing down their stalls for the night.

"Oh!" Isabela exclaimed, "I forgot! Varric had wanted to speak to you, Nero. Sorry." she added the last bit sheepishly.

Hawke nodded, "how about you Fenris?"

 _Back to Fenris now are we?_ The elf thought curiously. He considered joining them, but decided against it. He needed to think. So he declined and made his way to Hightown alone.

Isabela linked arms with the two men and smile mischievously. "So, how much convincing would it take to get you both into a bed with me at the same time?"

Hawke laughed but didn't answer, and Nero did not want to go there so he took the opportunity to quickly change the subject "I think I saw it. The gray hair!" He exclaimed, pretending to part her hair for a closer look.

Isabela quickly dropped her arm from around Hawke's and grabbed Nero by the shoulders, he almost felt guilty about the look of anguish on her face. But mostly he found it funny.

"No. Please tell me you're lying, please!" she begged.

When he said nothing she screeched and ran towards the hanged man, leaving Hawke and Nero laughing as they followed her.

Varric was, unsurprisingly, sitting at the head of the table in his room looking over some papers Bartrand had given him relating to the expedition. He set them to the side however as Nero and Hawke sat down on each side of him.

"Maker's breath Nero, where have you been? I've been trying to get a hold of you all day." he asked.

"I got a letter about a shop in the Undercity and brought him along, I was going to ask you to come as well but you weren't here this morning." Hawke told him.

Varric rolled his eyes, "some of us were working while you were shopping." he smiled.

"Nonsense, I didn't even buy anything."

"Anyways," Nero cut in, "what was it you needed, Varric?"

"Well," He began, tossing a letter in front of the other man, "I got word from some contacts in Tevinter that it is not uncommon for a magister make phylacteries for their more valuable slaves. Apparently there are often multiples, and they are cataloged and kept in some vault in the Archon's castle. Of course I'm sure there are some illegally kept ones, but where you are his property I imagine yours would be kept of course that you have one."

Nero frowned, "It seems more likely than not. Mauris."

"Thats what I thought. But, " Varric smiled, "I was informed today while you were all traipsing around in the Undercity that there is an abandoned shack in the woods between the city and Sundermount. There were a few old opened letters with the Archon's crest on them that blathered about payment and whatnot."

"Oh, really." Nero laughed, "it looks like I'll be going for a walk one of these days then, doesn't it?"

"I thought you might find that interesting. This definitely explains why there were no personal things in the Blooming Rose. That being said though, the only thing found in the shack were the letters, if there was anything valuable I'm sure that someone already found it and sold it. But I think it's still worth checking out."

"Thank you for looking into these things for me Varric, I do not know how I can ever repay you." Nero gave a small smile of gratitude.

"Oh shucks Violet, if you keep going on like that I'll start to blush."

Nero raised an eyebrow in question "...Violet?"

"Yeah he's been referring to you as Violet for a while now, he's got an obsession with nicknames." Hawke explained.

"Should I be insulted? Isn't it kind of girly?"

"Not at all!" Varric laughed, "violet is a rare color, a regal color. You love it, admit it."

Nero chuckled, "I'll pretend I do, just for you."

...

"It's no ocean, but it's nice to get away from the city." Isabela decided.

"I don't know, I feel like we're being watched." Varric said, glancing around.

"Oh, those are the squirrels, watch out for them. They can be vicious little bastards."

Nero chuckled, "The last time we were out here we had to face angry corpses, I think squirrels would be easy to handle in comparison."

"Oh no," Isabela laughed, "they're tiny and flitty. And for all you know we're going to find ourselves in a nest of angry and vicious squirrel corpses."

"Lets not give fate any ideas." Aveline said sternly.

It was just the four of them making their way to where Varric had been told the hut was. Nero had finally met Aveline for the first time that morning when he arrived at the Hanged Man, it was her first day off since the previous Guard Captain had been sacked and she was visiting the dwarf and sipping on some of the bar's ale. Nero found her amusing, between her dislike of Varric and Isabela's occupations...or lack thereof and her dry sarcastic humor he was enjoying himself quite a lot.

It was a warm sunny day, with a cool breeze sweeping off the mountain barely penetrating the trees that surrounded them. Nero was finding himself strongly hoping that he didn't get covered in blood, it would put quite a damper on his mood.

Isabela was positively bounding for joy at her escape from the city walls. She had been complaining quite frequently that she missed being on the sea and her mind always seemed drawn to it. This partly explained her goading Aveline on her new position in the guard.

"Well, 'Captain.'" she had grinned . "Can I call you captain? You can call me captain."

"I won't be doing that." was the terse reply

"Neither will I. Because you're a guard captain. No real authority. Not like on a ship."

"Well, you would know about having a large number of men under you."

Nero and Varric snickered from in front of the two women, Isabela simply smiled, "You've been waiting to use that one. Did you practice?"

Aveline groaned, "shut up."

Before Isabela could say anything more Varric spoke, "I hate to interrupt this conversation, I really do. But is it just me or does that look like an abandoned hut?"

"By the god's Varric, I believe you are correct." Isabela said as she slapped him on the shoulder, "lets go snoop, I love snooping...but not swooping, swooping is bad. Onward!"

She giggled as she lead the way to a barely discernible path in the underbrush and overgrown grass that seemed to lead directly to their destination. The shack could barely be seen from the road, it blended into it's surroundings easily due to the thickening of the forest and the moss and foliage covering it.

For a moment Nero wished he had come alone, finding himself thinking that some how some way there was going to be something in there that would reveal something about him that he did not want the others to know. He shook off the feeling, assuring himself that they likely wouldn't even find anything.

"I think," Nero began, in an effort to distract himself, "that you have started to bring up things sea-related more than you are bringing up things sex-related."

Isabela looked appalled, "truly? I'll simply have to endeavor to talk about sex on the sea."

"That's...not what I meant."

Isabela laughed as she pushed a branch out of her way, nearly hitting Nero in the face when she let it go. He grabbed it just in time, but scowled at her anyway.

"Oh stop it, you're starting to make me miss the elf. He's much better at that than you are." she smiled.

"Where is Fenris anyway?" Aveline asked, "I've been meaning to speak to him."

"He wasn't home when I left this morning." Nero said as Isabela opened the door to the hut and he stepped in. "for a place looking so decrepit on the outside it really isn't all that bad in here. A lot roomier than I expected too."

It was darker inside due to the windows being blocked, but sunshine still found its way in through the leaves, allowing them to see the single room in all it's empty glory. There was a shelf lining the wall opposite the door with a couple of crates on it, cupboards with broken doors above it, a small round table and a couple of chairs against one wall with an obviously abandoned bedroll beside them.

"Well, since we clearly don't need four people to poke around in here, I'm going to just go outside and enjoy myself." Isabela said with a shrug as she left.

Aveline pushed down on one of the chairs before sitting in it and leaning back, "this does seem like a terrible disappointment doesn't it?"

"For an abandoned shed in the middle of a forest I think it's quite comfortable." Said Varric as he pulled one of the crates off the shelf. Plopping it down on the floor in front of Aveline he added with a smile, "maybe you'll find something exciting in there."

"Probably nothing relevant, it doesn't look like it's been touched in ages." She replied before pulling a pot and a handful of papers out of it.

"Maybe we'll uncover some dirty secrets. People pay to keep dirty secrets secret you know." Varric said as he too dug into a crate and began to scan over some receipts and letters.

Nero searched the cupboards, barely paying attention to the conversation taking place between the other two. He could faintly hear Isabela humming to herself outside, absentmindedly he tried to place the tune but found he couldn't. He pulled a child's book from one of the cupboards after passing over a broken jar and a few feathers. He looked it over and paced slowly while Aveline chatted with Varric.

"Do you do anything?" She asked.

He groaned, "am I the next stop in your career evaluations? Joy of joys."

"You watch and you talk. Is that it?"

"You are dismissing hallmarks of both the utterly ineffectual and the incredibly dangerous."

The woman shook her head, "I don't know what you mean."

"It means coins flow when I talk and when I shut up." the dwarf explained, "like if you got paid to guard or unguard.

"That makes no sense."

"Good. What the void are you doing, Violet?" Nero looked up from where he was pressing his foot on a single board on the floor, a quiet squeak protesting the pressure.

"It sounds different than the other ones." He replied before setting the book on the table and kneeling down. Blowing away the dust he noticed a hole in the board and, sticking his finger in it, he pulled the board out.

Varric whistled, "that is the kind of thing we're looking for."

Inside there was a locked tin box, a large candle, and what felt like lots of paper wrapped in oiled leather, tied closed, to protect it's contents to the environment. Nero sat on the floor with the leather bundle and Varric set the box on the table, pulling out some picks to unlock it.

Aveline shrugged, "I'm going to go make sure the pirate wench is still alive." Outside she found Isabela sitting at the foot of a tree with her legs crossed in front of her and her eyes shut, a small smile on her face. Aveline watched her for a moment before sitting on the other side of the tree.

After a few minutes of silence between the two of them she asked, "how are you so successful with men? You're not that pretty."

Inside the hut Varric was working on the lock and Nero was holding some of the papers flat on the floor while he looked over them. He was going over a few letters with the Archons crest pressed into the broken wax seal when he heard the question Aveline had asked Isabela outside, he looked up and met Varric's eye as the dwarf did the same.

"That was harsh." Nero said quietly.

"She doesn't have a lot of tact," Varric replied, "she doesn't like Rivaini very much either though."

"Cast a wide enough net, and you're bound to catch something." they heard Isabela chuckle.

Nero scowled and muttered, "I am not a fish." Varric chuckled at this and returned to picking the rather finicky lock.

Outside Aveline laughed, "at least you're willing to admit it."

"Trust me. I've heard, 'Get away from me, you pirate hag!' more times than I care to count." Isabela said.

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Why should it? They don't know me. I know me."

Silence descended outside and Nero found some papers detailing what he looked like, what he could do, who he was to be returned to when captured, and where he had previously been seen. It was a long list of places, he _had_ dragged them all over the place. He found himself smiling.

Outside Aveline was continuing the conversation. "You're right," she said.

"About?"

"About knowing who you are. I'm the captain of the guard. I'm loyal, strong, and I don't look too bad naked."

"Exactly. And if I called you a mannish, awkward, ball-crushing do-gooder, you'd say...?"

"Shut up, whore."

Isabela laughed, "that's my girl."


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: i based Nero's new outfit off of Ezio's in Assassins creed 2...also, here is a picture i pieced together if you want a better understanding of what it looks like. it doesnt quite match the description...but screw it, i didnt make the picture till weeks after i posted the chapter anyway.  
> Link - http://elizabethbeed.deviantart.com/art/Le-Exio-without-a-cape-O-290503123
> 
> enjoy!

"Nero, pass me your dagger would you?"

Nero unsheathed and passed one of his daggers to Varric, an eyebrow raised in question. Ignoring it Varric held the blade in his fist with the sharp end pointing towards to ceiling and, the box held still in one hand, proceeded to bash the pommel of the hilt into the lock until it broke.

The dwarf shrugged as he handed the dagger back, "don't give me that look, it was pissing me off."

Nero chuckled as he re-wrapped the papers and got up from the floor, deciding he would look at them later. He stood behind Varric as the dwarf opened the box, frowning at the contents. Inside was a piece of paper written in a language neither of them recognized, a purse containing what amounted to 12 sovereigns, two keys on a ring and a small glass vial that was vibrating where it lay.

Varric reached in and, holding the vial in his hand, raised an eyebrow. "Well I'll be damned, if this isn't filled with your blood then I'm a Qunari."

"Great, now how do we destroy it?" Nero asked

"No idea," Varric handed Nero the vial. It stopped vibrating as soon as it was in his hand, shrugging, he put it in a pouch on his belt. "Take it to Anders, I'm fairly certain he told me he destroyed his phylactery. And he's a mage from the circle, if anyone would know how it would be him."

Nero nodded, he also pocketed the paper and keys and tried to give Varric the purse but Varric shook his head and pushed his hand away, "Keep it, I know you don't have any money and I think you have more right to it than I do."

Nero frowned and looked at the purse in his hand, "I want you to take it, for the expedition. If I am going then it's only fair I contribute something."

Varric sighed and accepted the purse from the other man, "how about this, I'll take half and you take the other half, buy yourself some clothes or something with it."

"Fine," Nero agreed, "But I hope you realize that I'm going to be hopeless when it comes to bartering, I don't think I've ever actually bought anything."

Varric held the door to the cabin open so Nero could step through and closed it behind them. "Seriously? I suppose I could come with you so you don't end up paying three sovereigns for a shirt."

"What's that? Are we going shopping?" Isabela asked with a large smile as her and Aveline joined the two men.

Varric laughed, "our dear Violet is in need of some new garments, don't you-"

"Oh, I love shopping!" Isabela squealed, "Are we going right now? Please say we're going right now."

Nero frowned, slightly overwhelmed by the whole idea, "I suppo-"

"Excellent!" she grabbed Nero's hand and dragged him through the foliage to the path back to Kirkwall, "I know just where to get what you need."

...

What felt to Nero like days later he was heading back to the mansion with Isabela, Varric and his now clothes. Aveline had excused herself when they made it back to the city, saying she had work to do, and ignoring Nero's protests that she should stay or take him with her as she left.

Nero felt shell-shocked as they entered the mansion and allowed him to lead them to his room to 'model' his new outfit at Isabela's insistence. The day had turned into a blur of merchants and multiple fabrics and trying things on and taking them off and trying them on again. Although he did find himself relatively pleased as he wore the results.

The tunic had three layers that had been sewn together to make one shirt. It started with two thin layers of fabric that were black with a green pattern at the hems. The bottom layer stopped at the waist in the front but went past his knees in the back and the front layer stopped just above his knees in the front and the back. Thankfully the layers had been cut after it reached the waist so instead of a constricting skirt the fabric had breaks in the center of the front and the back and at each side. Attached to that was what would have been a hooded, plain, black doublet if it had been separated, the sleeves were loose and had the same green pattern at the hems.

Isabela had insisted that he buy a Jerkin made of dark leather that had short pointed sleeves and only closed to about mid-chest where it rounded off around the shoulders. This gave ample room for the collars of the bottom two layers and the hood of the third to come through. Nero had insisted upon buying a chestplate, backplate and a pair of small pauldrons that had a lip where it was closest to the neck that would stop a blade from sliding right along it and cutting him. These were made of a dulled steel that would prevent reflection in the sun. He had also found greaves and gauntlets that were made of a similar dark leather as the jerkin and also had plates of dull steel sewn into them.

Over that he wore his own belt that held his scabbards and multiple pouches and Isabela tried to convince him to buy a cape that would 'just make it perfect' but he refused, saying he didn't have enough coin left, even though he did. Thankfully they had left the marketplace before Isabela could demand they buy him new pants and boots as well. The ones he already had were dark and had no holes, so Nero couldn't see any reason to replace them.

"Hmm," Isabella hummed when he presented his new wardrobe to her, "I may just have to stay to help you take it off."

Varric groaned, "keep it in your pants, Rivaini. I'm still here and have no intention of joining."

Nero laughed, "I'm surprised you don't find this too fancy to your liking. I feel posh, do I look smug? I feel like I should be doing something smug."

"Maker's breath, I'm too exhausted for this. I'm never going shopping with Rivaini again, especially when its not even for me. Show me to the door would you Nero? I don't know my way around this place, especially when its dark."

"But of course, Ser Tethras. Right this way." Varric snorted at Nero's dramatic bow and opened the door.

Isabela trailed after them, whistling at Nero as they walked down the hall. When they reached the entryway they found Fenris and Hawke coming in covered in blood.

"Varric!" Hawke smiled, "Just the man I wanted to see. I think it's almost time to pay your brother a visit." He tossed the dwarf a pouch and after a moment going through it Varric smiled and put it in his pocket.

"Perfect," He said, "This couple with what we found today actually puts us a sovereign over the fifty we needed. What did you do to get this much, Hawke?"

"Funny story that," Hawke then told Varric how they went to the Bone Pit to find that the miners had abandoned it because there was a dragon there and when they returned he was paid and given a half share of the mine.

While they were talking Fenris walked to where Isabela was adjusting Nero's collars.

"How did you manage to afford that?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Nero slapped at Isabela's hands, "Varric had heard of an abandoned shack near Sundermount, there was gold hidden there with some papers the hunters had left."

"Isn't it pretty, Fenris. His old stuff had far too many poorly patched up holes." Isabela chimed in, she stepped around Nero and tried to wrap her arms around him but he stopped her with a frown and a slight blush.

"They weren't that bad, they added character."

"It was ugly." She pouted.

Fenris hid a small smile and noted that the new look suited the man. His new clothes coupled with his new haircut made the elf aware of just how handsome he was. He pushed that thought away and turned to watch Hawke talk to Varric.

Isabela, tired of her touches being spurned by an increasingly embarrassed Nero, shrugged and went to put her attention to Hawke.

Nero sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore that he was embarrassed and at the same trying to figure out why. Isabela's attention had never seemed to bother him before.

Decided to ignore it all he looked sideways at the dirty elf beside him, "so, really?" he asked, "a dragon?"

Fenris shook his head tiredly, "I cannot say I ever thought I would have assisted in dragon slaying."

"Please tell me it wasn't just the two of you. Or should I be wondering instead how much of the blood on you is yours?"

Fenris scowled, "Hawke brought along the mage and the Dalish girl. It has been a rough day to say the least." Seeing Nero's look he snarled, "some of the blood may be mine, but the mage took liberty to fix it."

An awkward silence fell between the two, Nero was hesitant to bring up anything mage related due to the fight they had had. Before it could get more awkward he thanked Varric and Isabela for going out with him and said that he was going to do some reading. With that he headed toward his room, removed the belt, gloves, greaves and chest armor and settled himself into a chair by the fire with the papers beside him.

Hours passed as he read through letters insisting the hunt for him continue, receipts for provisions bought in other towns and cities, correspondence from people claiming to have seen someone matching his description. There were notes written by other hunters that stated where it was they had caught wind of him, what the locals said about him (mostly that he looked haggard, hungry and wasn't very talkative), and lists detailing where they stayed, who they spoke to and what they purchased. He passed through a few papers that had a rendering of how he looked when he was in the Imperium and a list that included his hair color, eye color, age, what he was trained in ( _conveniently excluding the whoring,_ he noted wryly), and similar statistics. The next page was a short, simplified summary of how he was created, signed by Esperance. He snarled as he stood and tossed that one in the fire, followed by the papers he had already gone through.


	23. Chapter 23

Nero poured himself a glass of wine and took a sip as he paced the room slowly, giving himself a moment to absorb what he had read so far. With a sigh he finished off the glass and sat back down, noticed the top paper was just another list of purchases and balled it in his fist and tossed it into the fire.

He started as he looked back down at the papers and found himself looking at a poor rendering of Fenris, blinking slowly he turned the page to find a letter asking to keep an eye out for him. It said that he was a very important investment and, unfortunately, there had never been a phylactery made. 'The slave is asked to be returned as soon as possible, due to the danger the slave poses and it's value. A large sum will be given to any captors upon its return.' Then Nero froze as he deciphered the signature.

"Denarius?" he muttered, surprised at the finding.

He read the letter once more before turning it over to find a sheet filled with statistics, similar to the one he had found about himself. Before reading it he looked at the papers under it, hoping to find an outline of the procedure to put the lyrium in the elf. He was slightly disappointed only to find a rendering of another elf, and after that another statistic sheet. Quickly flipping through the remaining stack of papers he found several more renderings and stats of escaped slaves that the hunters were asked to keep an eye out for.

Returning to the stats sheet he glanced through it to find that Fenris was only two years younger than he, a mere 26, that he had been 'missing' for three years, he had a sister and a mother, although their names were not listed and that his given name had been Leto.

"Maker's breath" Nero whispered, sitting back and looking up from the paper. He had a vague memory of meeting a Leto once, during that horrifying week he spent in Denarius' estate. Couldn't be the same one, could it? he frowned. Now that he thought about it, the two did look very similar, if one looked past the extreme difference in hair color. That could be easily explained by the lyrium, he thought grimly.

Grabbing the three papers he tossed the rest on the table and left his room, taking the stairs two at a time, and found Fenris' door slightly ajar. He knocked on it before pushing it the rest of the way open.

Fenris hair was still damp from his bath and he was sitting alone at the end of the table cleaning a gauntlet with an open bottle of wine beside him. He glanced up as Nero entered and frowned. Nero stepped forward and tossed the papers on the table near him as he sat in a nearby chair.

Setting down the gauntlet Fenris reached forward and uncurled the papers, quietly he glanced at the man seated beside him, "are you an artist now?" he asked, taking a swig from the bottle.

"No," Nero replied, "I found those in the pile of papers the hunters had. I thought you might be interested in them, considering they are about you."

Fenris took the rendering and dropped it on the table, staring blankly at the next paper. He frowned and dropped them as well, pushing them away and taking another long drink.

Nero frowned too, in confusion, "what's wrong?"

Scowling Fenris refused to meet his eyes, instead growling out "I cannot read."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize." Nero apologized.

Fenris sighed, "No one ever does."

"No, I'm a jackass. Did you...did you ever want to learn?" Nero asked carefully, hoping not to offend the elf.

Instead of anger, however, Fenris was startled and his head whipped up to look at the other man, "what?"

"I still remember the lessons from when I was taught is all. I could try to teach you."

"Oh...I...suppose. It could come in handy, I'm sure."

Nero smiled, "well maybe after the expedition is done then, since it seems that we'll be starting that soon." He reached to take the papers that Fenris had pushed away, "would you like me to read you these?"

Fenris took another drink, "sure."

And so Nero somberly read out loud the letter than Denarius had written, with Fenris scowling the entire time, but not voicing his thoughts. Pushing that aside Nero flattened out the last paper, "this one was interesting to me, it reminded me that we met before, only briefly."

Fenris' eyebrows raised in shock, "really? Where?"

"Minrathous, the only time I had been there. My...makers ran into Denarius on the ferry ride over and he was ever so kind," he rolled his eyes, "and offered his estate for us to stay in while we were in the city."

"What did he want in return?" Fenris scowled.

Nero shrugged, "I'm not sure, he made it seem like he didn't expect anything from my masters." Nero's face darkened and he looked down at his hands in his lap, his dark hair covering his eyes, "he took plenty of payment from me while I was kept locked in a room in the basement."

Fenris frowned and turned his attention to the fire, anger and sorrow waring in his mind, he was more than sure he knew what the other man meant. "I'm sorry, I'm sure he was less than pleasant."

"It was almost ten years ago, I've dealt with worse since then, but that was the first...never mind." Nero shook his head slowly but looked up when Fenris offered him the wine bottle, a blank expression on his face. Nero nodded and took a long drink.

"Wait a second, ten years ago," Fenris frowned, "that means you met me before I was branded with these?"

Nero nodded and handed the bottle back, "on the ride to the city he had mentioned that he had a slave that I reminded him of. While we were there he brought you up and they compared us. You were a lot paler then but maybe the black hair just makes it seem that way. You weren't...branded, as you say, but you were nervous and quiet and confused. We didn't speak to each other, we weren't permitted to." Nero gave a small smile, "even if we were I don't think you would have, I remember you kept giving me looks, like you were frightened of me." Fenris snorted "well I was taller than you and had blades at my sides. I barely noticed though, the slaves where I lived were scared of me too." Nero's frown returned and he sighed. "we were only in the same room for about an hour, but Denarius did mention that you were great with a sword, that your name was Leto and you were hired with your family...but they weren't quite as useful as you apparently."

Fenris didn't speak, instead he stared blankly at the table, his brows knit as he tried desperately to remember. He wanted to remember, Nero's words had a ring of truth to them, he knew this, but yet he could not place why he felt so. The name was unfamiliar, he could not remember family, he couldn't even remember seeing the man who sat before him ten years before. He wanted to know, he wanted all the things back that Denarius had taken from him. He wanted to force down this wall that stopped him from knowing who he had been. He sighed regretfully and looked at the bottle in his hand. He realized the irony that he would often drink to forget while wishing fervently that he remembered.

"Thank you," Fenris nearly whispered, "for telling me, I mean."

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you more." Nero fought the urge to place a comforting hand on the elf's shoulder.

"It's okay, it's not you who took the memories from me."

"I like to think if I had known what he was going to do, that I would have done something...but..."

Fenris gave a wry grin, "you were a slave then too, I wouldn't have held it against you if you did know and did nothing."

Nero didn't reply and the two sat in silence, each with their thoughts in dark places. Nero was trying, and failing, not to think about how the lyrium would have been put into flesh. Fenris was contemplating what he had learned and trying to piece it together with what he already knew. He had already been aware that he had been trained in combat under Denarius before the lyrium was imbibed into his skin. But he had not known his name nor that his family had lived under the man as well. He found himself wondering what happened to them, he was sure that he would have recognized them if they had still been slaves for Denarius after his ...operation.

Nero shook his head to clear his thoughts, "well, at least those files are out of slaver hands at least. I'm going to pretend that not every group of slavers has something similar, so I can sleep easier at night." he frowned, "I know that this was the center of the slave trade 900 years ago but there still seems to be a ridiculous amount of slavers around this cursed city."

Fenris chuckled, "I've come to conclude that there is an abundance of everything unpleasant in Kirkwall."

Nero nodded, "not in this mansion though, maker's breath there is a lot of good wine down there."

"Denarius did like his wine, but I get the impression that he never actually stayed here, I think maybe the merchant who previously owned it before him was a wine merchant."

Nero raised an eyebrow, "excuse me?"

"what?"

"This is...Denarius' estate?"

"Of course, I have been here waiting for him to come to it. But then, like I said, I don't think he's ever even been here, I'm starting to wonder if he even remembers it exists. Does this bother you?"

"what?" Nero asked, confused, "no no, just surprised me is all...it has a nice irony to it at least. That two highly valued slaves are living in a magister's mansion, I mean."

Fenris laughed quietly, "I've never thought of it that way before. Hmmm, I've been wondering..."Fenris sat up straighter, letting his question trail off.

Nero took the bait, "yes?"

"Your...powers, they are what make your eyes purple right?" he received a nod, "do your eyes always change color when you use them? I didn't notice the first time I saw you use them, I was distracted. But on Sundermount the other day..."

His question was met with a look of confusion. "My eyes, change color?"

Now Fenris was confused as well, "yes, after you assisted me with the corpses they were a very deep blue color."

"Oh,' Nero frowned, working out a possible explanation in his head. "Well, I don't generally expel that much essence at once...maybe my eyes go back to their normal color when I'm ...empty, as it were."

Fenris nodded but otherwise didn't respond and an awkward silence fell again. Nero was beginning to notice that it seemed that neither of them really knew how to act around each other anymore. Between Fenris letting Nero sleep in his bed and their fight the day before Nero didn't quite know where he stood in Fenris' eyes. Most of the time the elf was civil, but he seemed to have distanced himself a bit since the argument.

Nero was equally perturbed that he was so troubled about what Fenris thought of him. For the most part he did not generally care much for other peoples opinions or feelings towards him. It bothered him if people knew he was not human, nor elf, in the traditional sense, but other than that...he frowned. He was finding more and more that he tried not to give the elf a reason to think less of him or to hate him.

He was dragged back from his silent musings by Fenris' voice, "oh, I was supposed to let you know. Hawke asked us to come along with him and Bethany as they broke into their family's old estate and found the will their grandparents had left. Apparently their uncle lost it to a bunch of slavers." He smirked at the last part.

Nero nodded, "sure, when?"

"Tomorrow evening."


	24. Chapter 24

Darktown was such a depressing place, seeing such downtrodden and sickly people made Nero almost thankful that he had been a slave and not...this. Almost, but not quite. He knew that these were people that had constantly been handed shit in their lives, and it would be difficult for anyone to stare that in the face and demand more. Even so, he still recognized that these were people that had given up, and he found he didn't have much pity for these people because of that. His life hadn't been easy either but he was still fighting and not wasting away next to trash.

They were weaving their way through the tunnels, looking for the basement entrance that Hawke had a key for. Nero was trying desperately to figure out how the others were not lost down there. Everything looked the same, the people, the shady merchants, the drunks, the walls, just everything. But Hawke, Bethany and Fenris were so familiar with the tunnels that they were even having conversation, it baffled Nero. He wasn't sure if he looked forward to the time that he knew his way around down there as well as they did.

"So, the magister put lyrium in your skin?" Bethany was asking Fenris. Internally Nero winced at the question.

"So I'm told." Fenris scowled.

"Does it hurt?"

"You do not want to know the answer to that." Fenris growled

She visibly deflated, "I'm sorry," she muttered before falling back to walk next to Nero. Hawke took the opportunity to draw Fenris' thoughts to something else, and they were both smiling not long after.

"That was less than smooth." Nero observed with a wry grin.

"I probably could have thought about it more before asking." Bethany mused.

"You mean, thought of it enough to not ask at all?"

"Yeah, that." Bethany smiled. They were quite a few paces behind her brother and the elf, and she found herself glad that the mood she left Fenris in was gone already. "I'm happy for my brother, he seems so carefree when he's with Fenris."

Nero raised an eyebrow, "really? I haven't noticed, to be honest. Now that I think of it he does seem somewhat confused when Isabela is around too." He scowled, "Hawke does seem to take Fenris with him on his jobs a lot though."

"Confused?" Bethany furrowed her brow, "what do you mean?"

"Isabela sort of, hangs off of him, when she can."

"True...and you're okay with that?"

Nero started, "why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," a faint blush was visible on the girls cheeks, "aren't you two an item?"

Nero laughed, "no no, we just...entertain each other, so to speak."

"Oh," Bethany giggled, "Oh my."

"Well would you look at that?" Hawke began, he had stopped walking and was staring at a ladder in a small alcove, "who knew that Anders lived so close to the 'Amell' estate" he laughed.

"Or so close to a nest of slavers." Fenris snarled.

Hawke frowned and placed a hand on the elf's shoulder. Fenris visibly tensed but slowly relaxed as the hand stayed, he tried to not think too hard about the warmth emanating from the man.

Nero had his hood up as they traveled through the city to hide his ears and hopefully draw less attention to himself; which was sometimes difficult considering the company he kept. Smiling he pushed the hood back and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, who else is ready to release these slavers of the burden of their lives?"

Hawke nodded and gave a small squeeze to the shoulder under his hand before letting go and kicking a box out of his way. He silently made his way up the ladder and, after unlocking it, dropped the padlock to the ground and carefully eased the hatch open. After assuring himself that the room it lead to was empty he threw it open and motioned to the others to follow him up.

Once in the room the hatch was closed again and the group unsheathed their weapons before Hawke quietly opened the only available door and peered in. He held up two fingers and looked back to make sure the others understood that he meant there were only two people on the other side before he pushed the door open.

He plastered a huge grin on his face as he strode in.

"Hello, it would appear that you are in my house. Please leave quietly."

There was a flicker of recognition on one of the men's faces as he saw the elves, then he scowled and pulled his blade out of it's scabbard.

Hawke frowned, "so that's how it is."

Hawke rushed forward, sending one of the men to floor at the same time Fenris swung his blade and embedded it in ribs of the other man, his severed arm going flying at the sudden force. Four more slaver's made their way down the staircases and Bethany froze two of them at the same time that Nero ran forward and threw one of the salvers into another one, sending them both to the floor, one on top of the other. With a quiet growl he plunged one of his daggers through the scull of the top one into the scull of the second one. Placing a boot on top of the men at his feet he pulled the blade from them and wiped the gore off on the bodies.

Nero smirked at Fenris, "that's two for your one. So far I think I'm winning."

"This is a competition is it? I'll keep that in mind." He smiled, a feral glint in his eye.

The group made their way up the stairs and through a few more rooms where the battle resumed. By the time they made it to the room with the master slaver Nero had killed four more slavers and Fenris had gotten six. The first thing that Nero had seen when they entered the room was the string of panels in the middle that would break a collection of glass flasks containing what he recognized as a gaseous poison. Elbowing the elf beside him he inclined his head to the trap, Fenris nodded in understanding and stepped towards where the master slaver was babbling about Hawke's uncle.

Fenris forced himself to engage the mage in conversation, to draw his attention away from where Nero was tearing apart the contraption and moving the flasks underneath the closest barrel so that they didn't get broken in the scuffle that was sure to come.

"So what does a slaver do with a mansion? Should we be looking for cages containing starving people?" Fenris forced through gritted teeth, ignoring Hawke's look of surprise that he was talking and not killing.

The master slaver laughed, "I am not a fool, why would I store product at the same place I live? That's just asking to get caught." The mage narrowed his eyes as he took in Fenris' appearance, "aren't you that elf that has a hefty reward to his name? Of course you are, I can smell the lyrium on you." Fenris growled and raised his sword. "Now, now. No need to get feisty, if you come with me willingly I wont hurt you...much." he smirked.

The slaver shifted his gaze to where Nero was pushing the last flask out of the way and quickly shot a bolt of energy at him. Nero had no time to respond before he was hit in the chest, his daggers fell from his hands as he was sent flying backwards into the room they had just come from. His head snapped back into the wall that he landed against, momentarily dazing him. He gasped for breath and felt around him for his blades. Swearing he pulled a knife from his boot and felt around his belt for his other one. Confused he fingered the binding where it was supposed to be and found it broken.

Nero swore as he rose to his feet, ignoring the slight ringing in his ears and focusing instead on the sounds of battle coming from the other room. He took a step towards it when he caught sight of a group of slavers coming up the stairs behind him. He swore again and looked at the tiny blade in his hand. He frowned as he ran towards the group of slavers, throwing the knife at the second slaver in line he punched the first one, connecting with the man's chin making him dropping his sword before he even had a chance to use it. As the man fell to the side Nero ducked before he was hit by the sword swinging from a third slaver.

He grabbed the sword the first slaver had dropped and swung it up into the arm of the third slaver. He felt the bone break in the arm and heard the holler of pain from above him at the same time as he swung his leg out, sending the man to the floor. He stabbed the slaver he had punched in the chest where he lay on the ground and rose to his feet. He placed both hands on the hilt of the sword as he beheaded a fourth slaver, ducking out of the spray of blood that resulted.

He stumbled over one of the bodies on the floor and barely had time to deflect a blow aimed at him by a fifth slaver. He heard the quiet hiss of an arrow shooting past his head and swore. He grabbed the man with the sword by the neck as he readied for another stab. Nero used the pommel of his borrowed blade to hit the man in his temple, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Nero turned to the archer that had shot at him moments before to find him frozen, before Nero had time to react a glowing form glided past him and shattered the man. He lowered the arm holding the sword and looked around himself. Bethany was in the doorway, staff in hand as her eyes scanned the room. Hawke was striding towards him, his shield and sword on his back and Nero's blades in his hands. The glow beside him went out and Fenris swung his sword onto his back.

"Twelve, I win" he said with a smug grin.

Nero tossed the sword on one of the bodies on the ground and took his blades from Hawke, muttering "damn you."

"C'mon now Nero, no need to be a sore loser." Hawke smiled.

Nero put his daggers in their sheaths and pulled his knife from where it was embedded in a slaver's neck and put it back in his boot reminding himself to do something about the way he seemed to lose his daggers at the most inconvenient times. A strap holding the blades to his wrists would likely do the trick.

The group made their way up the stairs and into the actual estate, stopping in a room that had Hawke and Bethany's grandparent's will before sweeping through the rest of the mansion. Bethany took the time to admire the estate that her mother had grown up in.

"I can't believe that mother would leave such a place for poverty." she said with awe.

"Well, our father was quite the charmer." Hawke smiled.

They split up to search different ends of the estate for any stragglers that hadn't' joined the commotion in the basement.

"Do you ever miss Tevinter?" Bethany asked Nero as they made their way through the kitchens and servant quarters.

Nero shook his head, "I was a slave."

"Still it was your home, right?" Bethany persisted, "does it ever feel strange to not be there?"

"Sometimes," Nero replied, "I haven't been there for years though, and that doesn't mean I would go back. Don't you ever miss Ferelden?"

"Sometimes," Bethany said sadly, "We moved around a lot though, so it was difficult to get attached to one spot. I wonder if I only miss it because it holds the memories of my father and Carver."

"Carver?" Nero asked as he looked in another empty room.

"My twin brother," Bethany said sadly, "He didn't make it out of Lothering with the rest of us."

"I'm sorry," Nero said quietly.

"it's not your fault, don't be." Bethany forced a smile, "I've still got my mother and Garrett. That's more than many."

"Does it ever bother you that everyone calls your brother Hawke?" Nero asked, "you're a Hawke too."

"Not really, I know who they mean when they say it. It's been happening since father died and he became head of the family, so I'm used to it. Do you have family Nero?" Bethany asked.

Nero frowned, "no."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Bethany apologized.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I just assumed...that means that their gone..."

Nero laughed despite himself, "no you misunderstand me. I just simply do not have family. Unless you count the family of the people my body was made from, but I don't."

Bethany frowned in confusion, "I don't understand."

"Neither do I most of the time. We should find Fenris and your brother, there doesn't seem to be anybody else here."

"Oh maker, I hope we don't stumble onto something I would rather not see my brother doing." She blushed.

Nero raised an eyebrow as they headed back the way they came, "What are you on about?"

"My brother is a determined man, he has his sights set on Fenris and now that their alone..." she shook her head, "I'd rather not think about it."

"Their not that close are they? I knew Hawke flirted with him but I didn't think..." Nero frowned

"They are pretty close from what Hawke has told me. Fenris is at our place almost every day to fetch my brother." She looked at Nero, "Are you okay? You seemed irritated early when we spoke of them together too. You don't...do you have a thing for Fenris?" she asked with wide eyes.

Nero stopped walking, his mouth forming a silent 'o', he shook his head and refused to meet the girl in the eye as he continued forward. "O-of course not," he said, "I'm just surprised is all..."

Bethany smiled knowingly but said nothing. For a moment she thought about pointing out the blush now reddening his ears or the way he stuttered but thought better of it. If the man wanted to pretend he didn't have any feelings for the elf, then who was she to stop him?


	25. Chapter 25

Nero was finding that he didn't particularly enjoy being in the deep roads. It wasn't just the lack of sunlight or wind, nor was he particularly bothered by the fact that he was surrounded by stone. No, it was the cold. They had been down there for two weeks and Nero's toes and fingers had been freezing the entire time, he was sure he was going to get frostbite and lose them if something wasn't done about it.

Hawke's voice interrupted his thoughts, "maker's breath Varric, you didn't tell me it would be so damned boring down here."

They were settled around a fire, Bartrand's voice echoing through the chamber as he chastised some hirelings about something or other. Thankfully the dwarf was a bit less irate now that they had found a way passed their blocked passage; prior to that it wasn't even safe to be in the same area as him.

"Well Hawke, we could start hollering for darkspawn. Maybe they'll join diamondback." Varric smirked.

"Please don't tempt fate, Varric." Anders muttered from where he was huddled against the wall next to his bedroll, Bethany sat beside him, picking at her nails with the bladed end of her staff.

"Sorry Blondie." the dwarf apologized.

Nero tossed his cards in the pile, resigning himself to his loss, again. The first few games they had played had gone alright for him, but he had Varric helping him out then. So far he hadn't won a single game on his own, and he was betting money he didn't even have yet. He sighed and settled himself on the other side of the mage's bedroll, trying to adopt a relaxed position against the cold stone. He settled on taking off his boots and folding his legs, stuffing his toes behind his knees and shoving his fingers in his armpits.

He glanced at the man beside him. Anders had not been doing well since they had gone underground. He was barely eating or sleeping, he muttered to himself a lot and there always seemed to be a sheen of sweat on his forehead. After the first few days Bethany had approached him and demanded to know what was wrong with him; Nero had figured it had something to do with darkspawn and his being a Grey Warden, apparently not.

"On one of my last escape attempts from the tower they got a little frustrated with me. Instead of one of their usual punishments they threw me in solitary confinement for a year. Since then I'm a little uncomfortable in enclosed spaces." He told her.

"Maker's breath, Anders." Bethany said as she sat down beside him and put a hand on his arm, "why didn't you say anything before we brought you down here?"

He offered her a wane smile, "I can sense the darkspawn, I don't like to think of your guys' chances down here without the warnings I can give."

Bethany smiled sadly at him, "oh Anders, its not worth the cost of your sanity."

He chuckled, "I'm not insane yet, I'll be fine...thank you for the concern, Bethany."

Since then Bethany had taken to sleeping as close to him as she could without her brother saying anything. Nero, having been the only other person to have heard his confession chose to sleep on the mages other side. The two hoped that their presence would help ease the healer's nerves and Anders had begun to sleep a little more.

The deeper down they went though, the worse it was getting for the mage. He had been having nightmares since they had descended into the deep roads, but he was able to wake himself up without alerting the others. The deeper they went however the worse the dreams were getting, Justice unable to hold them back in the face of the taint surrounding them more and more.

It was only a few nights before that Nero had been drifting in and out of sleep, the cold keeping him from getting a good rest, when he heard a muffled cry beside him and saw Anders bolt up. Sitting up himself he looked over at the trembling man, he had his hand grasping his robes at his chest and was gulping in air as though he had been drowning.

Nero reached a hand out and had placed it on the other man's arm which caused him to jump and look at Nero with terror in his eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Nero said quietly, "are you okay?"

Anders forced his breathing to even before he spoke, "not really, but I will be."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Anders gave him a small smile, "go back in time and stop me from becoming a Grey Warden?"

Nero chuckled, "if only." getting up Nero pulled his bedroll to lay right beside the mage's. With that done he settled himself back into his warm blankets.

"What are you doing?" Anders had asked him.

"I'm cold and you're having difficult sleeping. When I was still in the Imperium I slept better when someone I trusted was nearby." Nero chuckled, "although I am just assuming you feel some modicum of trust towards me."

Anders lay back down and covered himself with his blankets, "thank you, Nero."

"You saved my life," Nero muttered, "it's the least I can do."

Since that night the two placed their bedrolls so close to each other as to be almost touching. Anders wouldn't admit it but he found a lot of comfort in the other man's body being so close, he might have preferred if it had been someone else, perhaps the other mage that was being so kind to him recently...

"distraction." Justice muttered at this thought, Anders frowned.

"shut up."

Anders absentmindedly found himself agreeing with Hawke's sentiment about how boring it was down there. The tunnels didn't feel like they were closing in on him as bad when he was doing or thinking about something else. He almost did wish that they would run into more darkspawn; but he dismissed that instantly. The itching in his head when they were near wasn't much better.

"You know, you feel different than other mages."

Anders started and looked up at the man beside him, "I'm sorry?"

"The essence, energy, whatever. It flows through everyone and it always feels a little different when it flows through a mage, from the connection ot the fade i presume. It sort of feels...fuzzy. But it feels different with you. Instead of feeling fuzzy it's more like there is something preventing the essence from flowing freely through you, some still gets through, but not as much."

Anders raised an eyebrow, "that's slightly discouraging."

Nero chuckled, "i imagine it's because your housing a spirit. Despite coming from the Imperium i didn't have a whole lot of opportunity to determine how much essence is flowing through an abomination. When the opportunity did arise i was generally preoccupied with not dieing."

Anders didn't reply. He found himself wondering if this lack of 'essence' flowing through him meant he was less human than other people, maybe it meant that his connection to the world wasn't as strong. I'm sure some people would just take the knowledge as confirmation that I'm inhuman and need to die, a certain elf in particular...he let his thoughts trail off.

"How come you don't hate mages as much as he does?" Anders asked suddenly.

"Who?" Nero asked.

Anders indicated the elf playing, and winning, diamondback beside Hawke, "Fenris."

"Oh. I can't say for certain, obviously. You were there the last time the subject of our feelings about magic was brought up. And I can't really blame him for his feelings...I knew his magister. I only spent time in his presence for a week, but that week was a hell of a case against magisters and mages. The bastard makes use of his magic in some very perverse ways that I would rather not get into. I try not to think about what Fenris endured under his hands."

"That still isn't any reason to hate every mage because of what one magister was like." Anders persisted

"Maybe not, but there is a silent battle taking place every time more than one magister is in a room. Being ruthless and cold-blooded seems to be the key to gaining an advantage over their fellow mages, so that is what they do. I've never seen it myself, but I've been told stories of dinners and parties thrown by a magister. Throughout the night it is common for a mage to sacrifice a slave and call forth a demon for petty means, to impress the others or to show just how powerful they are. If this is all Fenris saw, and not how these magisters felt about their actions when everyone was gone, then I cannot blame him. Magister's want to appear strong and heartless, and they do."

"And what makes your experience so different? You may not have been to any of their parties but you said that you knew the magister's more intimately than Fenris ever did."

Nero frowned, "surely you've heard what my...position was while I was in Tevinter? I met a handful of mages that seemed to seek comfort as much as, or sometimes more than they sought sex from me. I've seen mages cry over the lives they took to impress their brethren, and I've listened to them tear themselves apart and bury themselves in guilt. I once asked one magister why she just didn't leave the Imperium. She looked terrified at the idea and told me it was all she knew and she was more frightened to leave than she was to stay."

Anders scowled, "well why don't you tell Fenris this, surely he would see that not every mage is evil. It would be even more convincing coming from a fellow slave escapee."

Nero shook his head sadly, "no, I couldn't do that. I will not try to convince him of something that he wont believe. You need to realize that I am an escaped slave as well. The magister's I met that regretted what they did do not cancel out the others that were cruel and demonic because they wanted to be. I am the property of the Archon, Anders. The most powerful magister in the Imperium, and I was being sold out to anyone. I was purchased by people that had no interest in sex, they bought me because they could inflict things on me that they could only ever dream about inflicting on the Archon. I was the vessel that many used to vent their frustrations at their own inadequacies. For every magister that had a conscience there were five that were more demon than human."

Anders shook his head, "but the ones that had that conscience stopped you from hating all mages, surely Fenris is capable of understanding as well."

"He is right when he says that you do not understand. You can't. You are just like him in this respect." Anders made to interrupt but Nero held up his hand, "let me finish. You are angry at the Templars because of how the majority, but not all, act. Surely you yourself have met a few Templars that weren't intent upon abusing their power, that didn't hold any disdain towards you for being what you are. And yet, you still hate them all. I don't even want to know what revenge you have planned. Anger is what keeps both you and Fenris going, you fight because you are angry at a group that you know you have no hope of toppling yourself, so you focus the anger you have on what you can. Fenris focus's his anger on you because you are a mage that he is frequently placed in the same room as. You focus your anger on anybody suppressing a mage in your sight."

Bethany had joined them while Nero spoke, and when he finished she nodded. "He brings up a good point Anders."

"No, mages have been suppressed everywhere by everyone for too long, justice needs to be served, it-"

Nero snorted, "justice is a fools notion, Anders. Who are you to say you have the right to seek justice on a Templar for killing or abusing someone you loved when they too are loved by somebody. You are becoming the very thing you hate every time you kill a Templar for killing a mage. Justice is a lie."

Anders skin begun to crack and he began to glow blue at Nero's words. Nero, suddenly very aware of who he had just pissed off, began to shuffle away. Bethany, in hopes of bringing Anders back put her arm around his shoulders.

"You are wrong."

The voice coming from Anders sounded like it was actually two separate voices trying to speak at the same time. Nero cringed, realizing that this was the spirit he had heard so much about. I thought he was supposed to be a good spirit, he's fucking terrifying. he thought.

Nero nodded, now closer to where the card game was taking place than the two mages. Bethany began to mutter into Anders ear and slowly the man stopped glowing. When Anders finally had complete control over himself he muttered an apology at Nero and put his head in his hands.

"I told you he had no control over his demon." Fenris said to Hawke.

Nero stood and walked to the other side of the fire, to where Hawke, Fenris and Varric were playing their game. He sat down by the elf, making sure that Fenris was between him and Anders. When he sat the three men gave Nero a questioning look.

"Don't insult justice around him." was all he said.


	26. Chapter 26

"I am definitely going to kill your brother." Hawke said for the umpteenth time as his stomach growled.

They had reached the Primeval Thaig and stumbled upon an idol made out of red lyrium, something none of them had heard of before. When Varric had showed it to his brother Bartrand had taken the opportunity to lock them in the Thaig and cut them off from their only known exit. So now they were making their way through the deep roads, fighting profane, darkspawn, demons and a rock wraith along the way.

"Don't be so hasty just yet Hawke," Varric said, motioning for the group to stop, "It would appear that we have stumbled upon quite a bit of a fortune." He smiled.

"Ooh, pretty shiny things." Hawke said as he and Varric went into the stash of gold and chests and began to throw things into the sacks that they had picked up along the way after Bartrand betrayed them.

Nero, Bethany, Anders and Fenris took the opportunity to rest. All were thankful that they had made it through their fight with the rock wraith just moments before, and wanted to relax and lick their wounds for a moment.

Nero rubbed his knees where he had fallen on the remains of a profane and jarred his kneecaps. He sighed loudly, "I really need a bath, and a massage, and a bed, and a-"

Bethany groaned, "stop it, you're reminding me of things that I would rather forget. Like pumpkin pie, I would kill for a slice of mother's pumpkin pie."

Anders searched his pack for a lyrium potion that he knew wasn't there, "I'd like a big slab of ham, fresh from the kitchen, with honeyed mustard please."

"I'd be happy with an apple, at least." Fenris muttered from where he was sprawled on the ground, his chipped sword laying beside him.

"You people have no imagination," Nero laughed, "I would like a large plate of fries sprinkled with lots of mozzarella curds and bacon and topped with gravy. Mmmm"

"that does sound good," Bethany agreed, "I'll have a portion of that with a side of pumpkin pie."

Nero's stomach groaned loudly and painfully, he winced "okay, enough of that, my stomach feels like it wants to rip is way out of my body and eat everything in site that isn't a rock."

Bethany giggled and the group fell silent as they each thought about what they would like to eat when they got back to the surface anyway. Anders found himself drifting off, incredibly tired from the magic he had used during their latest battle. He barely registered that others were speaking

"Why didn't you just use your powers to kill the rock wraith with bigger rocks." Fenris demanded of Nero.

"I didn't think anybody would be very happy if I collapsed the entire Thaig on us because I wanted to throw a big rock. Rock is difficult to control anyway, its terribly stubborn." Nero chuckled.

"Get up you lazy asses, we're going to go look for water and make a camp." Hawke said cheerfully, tossing a sack to each of the men.

Anders grunted with the impact, "can't one of you just drag me with you?" he grumbled as he stood.

Fenris shot him an icy glare, "we could kill and leave you. One less person to waste our provisions on."

Anders scowled at the elf but continued past him without replying.

...

They had conveniently found a small alcove with a stream running through it and set up camp just outside of it. They were all in a good mood upon finding it, excited to be able to bathe for the first time in weeks. Anders, Varric, Bethany and Nero already had their rolls set up, Nero's still next to Anders' despite his altercation with Justice. He figured if the spirit wanted to kill him then his roll being a few feet away wouldn't stop him,

Fenris was just wrestling his tunic from where it was tangled up in his armor when Hawke joined him in the alcove. He eyed the man, thankful that he already had his leggings on. Hawke swept his wet hair out of his eyes as he smiled at the elf.

"Difficulties?" He asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Fenris raised an eyebrow, "yes. Was there something you needed, Hawke?"

Hawke chuckled and leaned against the wall near where the elf was losing the battle with his armor for his tunic. The man grinned down at the wet elf, and wiped a drop of water off of his own naked chest.

"You're adorable when your wet and frustrated." he observed.

Fenris sighed and stood strait, turning towards the man. "Thank you, I think." he frowned.

Hawke took a step towards the elf, so close that he could feel Fenris' breath on his skin.

"You're welcome," he said quietly.

Fenris took a step away from the man, far to aware of how he lacked clothing. He swallowed hard and looked at the rock behind Hawke.

Hawke frowned slightly and slowly raised a hand to the elf's cheek, he rubbed the elf's cheekbone and took a step forward, replacing the one that Fenris had just taken. Fenris sighed quietly and gently leaned into the touch, his eyelids fluttering closed. He heard a laugh from outside of the alcove and was reminded of just how close everyone else was. He tensed and took another step backwards but his back hit cold stone and this time when Hawke took a step forward he had no where to back up to.

"We haven't been alone for weeks Fenris, this is the closest we're going to get." Hawke whispered, dropping his hand to the elf's shoulder.

"We aren't really alone right now either." Fenris muttered, refusing to meet the other man's intense gaze.

"alone enough," Hawke sighed, he gently grasped the elf's chin in his hand and raised his head, so that Fenris had no where to look other than his face.

Fenris felt a cold shiver shoot down his spine at the lust he found in the other man's gaze. He was so surprised by it that he didn't react when Hawke slowly lowered his head and pressed their lips together. When their skin met he gasped, Hawke jumped on the opportunity and pushed his tongue forward to explore the elf's mouth.

Fenris instinctively froze and lifted his hand to push the other man away but didn't touch him, instead telling himself to relax and let it happen. If Hawke noticed Fenris' hesitation he did not show it, instead he placed one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his hip and pulled the elf closer to him. Fenris found himself groaning when his semi-hard erection was pressed against Hawke's thigh and Hawke grinned into the kiss at the sound. Fenris' fingers wrapped around Hawke's forearms, as though he needed to hold on to them to remain standing.

Hawke released Fenris' mouth and chuckled at the small whimper that escaped the elf. He Kissed along his jaw to the soft spot under his ear and pressed his tongue there before he nibbled along Fenris' ear. Fenris sucked in air sharply and tried to ignore the hand that was on his neck trailing itself down his abdomen.

"Soups on, come get your dinner brother!" they heard Bethany say from outside.

With a frustrated sigh Hawke straightened and found himself looking at a very stunned elf. He grinned, "I'll see you out there." he said before turning and joining the others.

Fenris didn't move for several minutes, his brain fumbling to understand what just happened. He stared blankly at where his shirt was stuck in his armor and caught his breath. Hawke had been flirting with him for months now, sure, but Fenris had never taken it as much more than just that, flirting. But now...well now he wasn't sure what he should do. He pushed himself off of the wall and bent down, he unhooked his tunic from where it had gotten caught on one of his spiky pauldrons and untangled it from the straps. He stood to pull it over his head and before he bent over to put on his armor he caught a whiff of the watery soup Bethany was serving and his stomach growled.

He decided to rid himself of his hunger so that he could think about this with a clear head. He fumbled with his armor but once it was on he strode to the campfire, focusing on keeping his shakiness from being apparent as he walked.

...

They had found their way back to where they had started when Anders realized that the taint he was sensing wasn't coming from Darkspawn like he had thought.

Bethany hadn't been looking very good since a couple of days before when they had encountered a small group of darkspawn. She hadn't complained and they had assumed the blood on her face had been her own from where she had gotten nicked by an arrow on her cheek. He had healed it despite the almost overwhelming buzzing in his head from the dieing darkspawn around them, but now...

Now he knew that she had ingested some of the Darkspawn's blood, and he could tear his hair out that he had not noticed it sooner.

She was being held up by an angry Hawke as they turned around and Anders lead them to where he knew the other Grey Wardens would be.

He still wasn't sure this was the right decision, he didn't know if he could really push this fate onto her. She was so young and innocent, she didn't deserve to have the taint and the nightmares and the death sentence. He felt sick with mourning even as he walked beside her and her brother.

He couldn't stop himself from looking away from her foggy eyes, nor the bruised looking skin surrounding them. Her pale skin and the constant sheen of sweat was a constant reminder of how he failed. He should have protected her better from the darkspawn, he should have always kept himself between her and them but he didn't and now...now she was cursed.

"I think their nearby." He said, then he heard growls and hisses from the darkness "or it could be darkspawn."

It was the latter, luckily it was a small group and they were dispatched quickly. When he turned around he came face to face with the Templar Stroud. He forced himself not to show his hatred, instead he decided to pretend that he was talking to a floating mustache. Well hello there Mr Mustache, good to see you again.

"Anders." The mustache stated.

"Fancy meeting you here Mu-Stroud." He smiled.

"I could say the same," Stroud folded his arms across his chest, "I thought you were through fighting darkspawn."

Anders frowned sadly, "I'm not here for darkspawn. I came looking for you."

The both looked to where Hawke was helping Bethany approach them, "You...mean the girl as a recruit? Of course you do." Stroud shook his head. He looked to the Hawke siblings "I'm sorry. I know this comes as no comfort to you, but we do not recruit Grey Wardens out of pity. It is no kindness."

"You think its kinder to let Bethany die from the blight?" Hawke growled.

"Sometimes it is, yes." Stroud said sadly.

"Stroud, trust me when I say this one is worth your time." Anders explained, "with the Blight over, you Wardens don't have recruits lining up."

"This is no simple thing, Anders. This may be as much a death sentence as the sickness, and you know it."

"She'll die anyway," Anders persisted, "Take her and try...I'm asking you."

Stroud shook his head in frustration, "Very well. I will try, but if I do this, then we are even." He turned back to the siblings "if the girl comes, she comes now, and you may not see her again. Being a Grey Warden is not a cure. It is a calling."

"Are you sure about this?" Hawke asked Bethany.

"It sounds better than a sure death, the circle, or continuing to put you and mother at risk for harboring an apostate. I'm sure." Bethany said tiredly.

"We must move quickly if we are to make the surface in time." Stroud said to the Wardens behind him.

"Then I guess this is it," Bethany said sadly to her brother, "Take care of mother."

Hawke nodded and let Stroud take Bethany from him. He watched them leave sadly, telling himself over and over that it wouldn't be the last time he saw her. When he turned to head back the way they had come he couldn't stop the look of hatred he shot at Anders.

Anders felt his eyes burning, a large part of him wanting to go with the Grey Wardens to be there for Bethany. But a particularly Justicey part of him demanded he go with the others back to Kirkwall where he could make a difference. So he trailed behind Hawke and the others as they made their way back to the surface, leaving Bethany to face her fate alone.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Le male-male sex in this chapter, if you don't like it then don't read it :)

While Hawke had been in the deep roads his mother had been busy appealing to the viscount about the rights to the Amell estate. When Hawke returned the exchanging of some of his new coin smoothed along the process and not two weeks after his return he was moving into his new home. Things were looking up and three weeks after handing Bethany over to the Wardens they received a letter from the Warden Stroud assuring them that Bethany was still alive.

And now Hawke had Fenris over and they were sharing a glass of champagne in the study connecting to his room. The bodies in the basement had been cleared out and the slavers personal things were removed. Hawke wanted to celebrate, in the most carnal of ways if possible, and he could only hope that the elf would oblige.

"I look forward to hearing from Bethany. I hope she makes out alright." Hawke was saying, "she'll be heading back to Ferelden when she's recovered from her joining, so at least she gets to go home. We never lived near Vigils keep, but I'm sure it's the same as everywhere else in Ferelden." he laughed.

"Do you think she'll enjoy being a Grey Warden?" Fenris asked.

"I don't know, if she doesn't we'll just have to kidnap her and bring her back here. It can't be too difficult to escape the Wardens. Anders hasn't been caught yet, and he was caught seven times when he escaped the circle tower."

"Maybe they were just glad to be rid of him." Fenris snarled.

Hawke stood, setting his glass on the table beside him. "enough of such serious talk. Tonight I wish to celebrate, come." He motioned for Fenris to follow him as he left the study to his bedroom.

Fenris frowned and set his glass beside Hawke's before following him. When he entered the dark bedroom he noticed that there were only a few candles lit. It was still warm out (at least to a Ferelden's senses, he shivered) so the fire wasn't lit, and it was dark so there was no sunshine seeping in past the closed curtains.

He had barely taken these things in before he was begin pressed against the wall and Hawke was removing his armor.

"I've been waiting for this moment since the deep roads." Hawke growled seductively before he lowered his head to take Fenris' mouth with his.

Hawke's hands were under his shirt and climbing up his abdomen to his chest, Fenris groaned into the kiss and opened his mouth at the other man's insistence. He noted that this kiss was different from the last one, it was more intense and needy. He momentarily wondered which one he preferred but his thoughts were quickly taken elsewhere when Hawke's fingers found his nipples and gave a light squeeze. Fenris nearly yelped with surprise at the foreign feeling. He instinctively ground his hardening erection into the other man's thigh when it forced its way between his legs.

Hawke moaned and pinched Fenris' nipples harder, the elf cried out into the other man's mouth. Both at the way it sent lightening straight to his groin and how the sharpness of the pain it caused reminded him of similar confusing sensations he felt at the hands of Den- he forced the thought from his mind. Hawke broke the kiss just long enough to pull the elf's shirt off, Fenris only had the opportunity to gasp in a few breaths before the kiss was returned with a clack of teeth on teeth.

Fenris was surprised to find his hands under Hawke's shirt, exploring the man's taught muscles. Hawke moaned silently into the kiss and pressed his aching erection into the elf's hip, forcing Fenris to adjust where he was still grinding against Hawke's thigh. Fenris found the other man's bottom lip and sucked on it gently. Hawke growled and, lifting the elf up, he carried him to the bed, only breaking the kiss to pull his own shirt off and throwing it to the side.

He settled himself between the elf's legs and attacked his neck with his mouth, he used one hand to squeeze Fenris' thigh while using the other to pull at the drawstrings of his pants.

Fenris fought the rising panic he felt at feeling so trapped under the other man. Hawke was heavy and Fenris felt like he was being pinned into the mattress. This is irrational, ignore it, dammit it! Hawke is not him, he chastised himself. In an effort to gain some semblance of control Fenris reached to pull apart the strings on the other man's pants as well. See, you would be reprimanded if this was him, for daring to do such a thing, he reassured himself.

Unaware of Fenris' internal battle Hawke finished untying the elf's pants and gave one last nip to his collarbone before pulling away and, after letting Fenris finish untying his own pants he pulled the elf's off before pulling off his own.

Hawke pushed Fenris further up the bed, so that his head lay on the pillows and returned to kissing him. Fenris welcomed the familiarity of the kiss, he was embarrassed that he was completely naked before the other man, and felt a shame that he hadn't felt in years. He shoved it from his thoughts and let himself get absorbed in the kiss. He was so into it that he jumped when he felt Hawke's calloused hand wrap around his cock. He growled and thrust into the hand and Hawke obliged him and began to pump it slowly.

Fenris' hands were on Hawke's biceps and he didn't notice that he was leaving scratches on the other man's arms as his climax slowly began to build. Hawke must have sensed this as he stopped just short of letting the elf release, instead he moved his hand to himself and his mouth back to Fenris' neck. Hawke moaned into Fenris' collarbone as he pulled at his own erection. When he felt that his cock was at full strength he placed one hand beside the elf to prop himself up and began fumbling in the drawer of his nightstand for the lotion he kept there.

He moved his mouth to Fenris's ear and quietly growled "flip over." before pulling away to allow the elf to do so.

Fenris momentarily considered refusing , but in his lust he obeyed and so he found himself on his hands and knees. He moaned into the pillow when Hawke entered him with one finger, and pushed back as the human pumped it in and out of him. He hissed a little when a second finger was added but the sharp sting was soon replaced with pleasure and he was clenching his fists in the blankets.

Hawke removed his fingers and placed the head of his cock at the elf's entrance. He placed one hand gently on Fenris' hip and slowly pushed himself into the tight warmth that awaited him. A whimper of pleasure escaped Hawke as he was engulfed and Fenris forced himself to relax so that the sting from the large intrusion didn't hurt so much.

When Hawke was fully sheathed he leaned forward and kissed the back of Fenris' shoulder and waited for him to adjust. It wasn't long before Fenris was pushing back into Hawke, inciting him to move.

The pace was fairly slow and gentle at first, but Hawke quickly lost himself and was slamming into the elf below him. Fenris moaned when Hawke increased the speed, despite how awkward he found it felt at first. He suppressed another shot of panic when Hawke's hand found the back of his neck, and he waited for the inevitable pushing of his face into the mattress. Instead Hawke grabbed his hair, forcing the elf to rise, when he did Hawke reached around and grabbed Fenri's cock, pumping it in time to his thrusts. Soon the sting of his hair being pulled was replaced by the climax quickly descending on him again.

Just as he was about to come Hawke let go of his hair and he ended up hollering into the pillow as he came. Hawke caught the elf's seed in his hand and his orgasm quickly followed. He bent over the elf with his spare hand and gasped for breath for a few minutes before slowly pulling out and dropping to the mattress beside Fenris. He leaned down to wipe his hand off on the shirt that he had tossed on the floor and grabbed a cloth from his nightstand and passed it to the elf.

Fenris struggled to catch his breath as he lay face down in the pillow, he tiredly accepted the cloth and rolled over to clean himself. He dropped the soiled cloth on the floor beside the bed and looked over to Hawke. The man had already caught his breath and his eyes were closed, he opened them when he sensed that the elf was watching him. He smiled and leaned over to press his lips against Fenris's before he fell back,

"So, I can't see you for the next few days," he said, " apparently I need to go to the viscounts office and sign some things so that there is no confusion over who owns this place. But I'll come visit you when that's over with."

Fenris looked at him blankly for a few moments before nodding and rising from the bed to find his leggings and tunic. As he got dressed Hawke watched from where he was sprawled on the bed and Fenris turned to him at the doorway, opening his mouth to say something. He thought better of it and nodded his head instead, closing the door behind him as he left.

...

On his walk back Fenris found himself comparing his experience with Hawke with what he had experienced before. He was disgusted to find that there had been a few times that Denarius had been as gentle as Hawke had just been. Is this really how sex is? Is it always so obviously a submissive/dominant affair? He had always assumed there was something more. People died and killed for love didn't they? Why? That was hardly worth fighting for.

He scowled, maybe there was something wrong with him and that's why he didn't enjoy sex as much as others did. Maybe Denarius had taken that from him too, by riddling his thoughts with memories of the magister while he was with someone else. Would he continue to go through life finding more and more things that the bastard had tainted?

He reached the mansion and looked up at it angrily. Denarius had probably killed the merchant that had owned it. Even this place was tainted. He pushed open the door and slammed it shut behind him. Would he ever go a day without thinking about the man? He was his slave even now, his thoughts always returning to what he wanted to do when he finally had the mage at his mercy. How fitting that this place was so dark and filled with death, the magister had an uncanny ability to destroy everything he owned with his evil.

Fenris felt filthy. He wished he could light himself on fire and cleanse his soul of the darkness it was filled with. He looked at his room and all of the things that Denarius owned. He found himself thinking it would be more fitting if there was a mirror around. He forced his fists to unclench and found himself grabbing a small table by the fireplace and throwing it against the wall. It shattered and he saw red as he turned to find something else to break.


	28. Chapter 28

Nero woke to the sounds of a yell and a crash, which was quickly followed by more sounds of things breaking. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion and concern he sat up and forced himself out of the warmth of his bed. Opening the door to his bedroom he glanced down the hall, golden light told him it was very early in the morning. He followed the noises as they led him to the main hall and up the stairs to Fenris' room, forgetting to put on a shirt in his haste. Along the way he checked the front door and the boarded windows for signs of forced entry but found none.

He stepped back when he heard glass break against the other side of Fenris' door and watched as a dark liquid seeped under it, the scent of red wine filling his nostrils. Curses were snarled and growled on the other side of the door in Tevinter, the sound of wood splintering occasionally joining it.

Slowly Nero opened the door and silently stepped around the glass just as Fenris punched a hole through the wall. The elf stood next to the table, which was currently upside down and surrounded by broken wine bottles. One of the chairs that used to stand with it was by the window on it's side, a crack trailing through the center of it so that it would be lopsided even if it was stood up right. As for the other chair, broken pieces of it could be seen in different corners of the room; a leg sticking out of the fireplace, half of the seat at the foot of the bed, etc.

And Fenris was glowing in the center of it all, the lines of his tattoo's visible through the cloth that wasn't covered in his armor. His hair was a mess and Nero could see a few bruises sprouting and red bite marks on his neck.

Over the course of the time Nero had known the elf he found there was a slight difference between when his tattoo's glowed because of emotion or if they glowed because he was going to rip someone's organs from their body. The glow was more of a crisp white in battle but it was a duller blueish color when he was angry...Nero couldn't quite recall a time the tattoo's had glowed from any emotion other than anger.

Right now the elf was emitting a fairly strong blue glow, one that seemed to get dimmer when he yelled. He pulled his fist from the wall as Nero closed the door with a barely audible click, plaster flying in all directions as it was shaken loose from where it had gotten stuck in his gauntlets. Fenris whirled in the direction of the door at the noise, the light coming from him brightening, causing Nero to flinch as his eyes tried to adjust.

Nero noted that despite looking in his direction, Fenris' eyes were not truly seeing. The man was lost in his own anger, blind to his surroundings as the memories he could remember were racing through his mind. It had started with ways Denarius had taken advantage of him, the way the magister grew more and more curious about the bodies reactions to certain...less than pleasant stimuli. Now, though, now Fenris was remembering all of the things he had done at the word of his master. He was angry at himself for ever having been so weak that he begged for Denarius, killed for Denarius, served for Denarius, cried for Denarius. Fenris had not cried since, letting his anger overpower every other emotion he had. He wanted to, but he would not cry now either, he was not that weak. He felt a constriction in his throat, and in response he snarled and threw the bottle he felt in his hand towards the sound he barely registered hearing moments before.

Stepping forward Nero caught the bottle before it could collide with him and set it on the floor. He quickly strode towards Fenris and before the elf could react he wrapped his fingers around the exposed flesh of his upper arms. "Fenris," Nero began, "What-"

The room was nearly plunged into darkness when the elf suddenly stopped glowing. When Nero's eyes re-adjusted to the low light he saw that green orbs were focusing on his face. The other man's features easing from an impenetrable anger to an uncontrollable sadness. Nero watched as Fenris' eyes seemed to suddenly flood with tears that needed to be shed. With a choked sob the tears spilled over and Fenris fell to his knees, bringing Nero with him.

Skin touching his had shattered the blood-red rage that was keeping him stable and standing. Instead of recoiling from touch as he usually did he felt as though the fingers around his arms were emitting warmth instead of the pain that he had come to expect from touch. The shock of it, the suddenness of it, broke him. Suddenly the brick wall his anger had erected around his hurt was gone and inside was glass, and shards were falling away like ice falls from an iceberg. And he could not stop it, he did not have time to push the bricks back into place. He barely recognized surprise on the face of the person holding him and he did not feel his knees hit the floor as his vision blurred.

He did not realize that he was leaning into the touch until there was a collarbone against his temple and his cheek was resting on the other man's chest. A very distant part of his mind told him to push away and get up but it was overpowered by the warmth emanating from Nero's skin. Slowly the warmth enveloped him as Nero wrapped his arms around Fenris' shoulders and pulled him a little bit closer.

Fenris' shock was quickly shoved aside as he closed his eyes and bit his lip to try and stop the sounds tearing from his throat. His arms hung limply at his side, fists clenching when his sobs felt like they would turn into screams. He turned his head and pressed his face against Nero's neck, trying to hide his eyes from the light.

Nero did not speak, despite the questions he had. Fenris was so strong, he was proud and he was smart and he was a bit of an ass. He was angry, and he thrived off his anger. He had every right to be angry. Nero had only known Denarius for a week, Fenris had been his slave for years. He did not know much about the elf's experience and he never asked. If Fenris had successfully turned everything he felt about his life as a slave into anger then who was Nero to question that. Sure Fenris had some quirks due to his previous life, such as his aversion to touch, but he survived in spite of it. Nero was ashamed of his life as a slave, he was ashamed that he was a slave, and he tried to hide it and hide from it. But Fenris looked that life in the face and said 'Fuck you' and Nero admired him for that, was jealous of him for that.

And yet, that strong man who would not fall in the shadow of slavery, the man who successfully strived past it. That was not the same man who was crying into Nero's chest, who was choking and gasping and trying so very hard not to make much noise. I was wrong, Nero thought, I have seen only what I wanted to see. I have only seen what he wanted me to see. I was a fool.

So Nero held him, and he did not move even when his knees began to ache and his muscles began to strain against the position. He did not complain about the tears falling down his stomach, nor about the snot that was probably smeared across his neck. He rested his cheek against Fenris' hair and he waited for the sobs that were wracking the elf's body to subside, and the tears to stop.

The sun was completely risen when they did, sometime during the morning Nero had sat back onto his feet, and Fenris had sat himself on his hip between his legs. Fenris no longer hid in Nero's neck, instead the side of his face rested against his naked chest, his head under Nero's chin. Nero had the elf encircled in his arms, one supporting his back and one laying across his chest, his hands folded and wresting just above Fenris' hip.

Fenris had been quiet for some time now, and Nero knew they couldn't stay on the floor forever. Gently he propped the elf up so that he was sitting, his eyes held shadows of misery, and instead of looking at Nero they looked at his own gauntleted hands that rested loosely in his lap. Nero glanced where Fenri's shoulder had been pressing against him and was glad to see that there wasn't any blood from the elf's armor.

Slowly Nero took Fenris's gauntlets off, keeping his gaze on the elf's face for any sign of, well...anything really. But there was nothing to see while Nero unlatched the clasps holding the armor to his arms, the ones that kept the pauldrons together in the back and the ones holding the breastplate and the backplate together. Careful not to accidentally stab the man in the face with the metal feathers adorning the shoulders Nero pulled it over his head and set it gently on the floor beside the gauntlets. Lastly he took off Fenris' utility belt, leaving the elf in his leggings and tunic.

Sitting back with his legs folded under him Nero studied the elf. He found himself wondering if the elf had actually cracked or if there was a trust here that he had not been aware of. Nero may not have known Fenris as long as the others had, but he had never been lead to believe by any of them that Fenris easily showed any signs of vulnerability. Fenris rarely even spoke when people were around that he did not know or trust. When Anders or Merril was around he didn't say anything unless it was to snap at them or he was asked a question.

Nero knew that Fenris was not uncomfortable around him, but he hadn't exactly spilled deep dark secrets. He shared as much information with Nero as he did with Hawke or Isabela. Fenris was almost...predictable. Everyone knew what would make him angry or what he would agree with, he openly shared his views on important matters...

But the man sitting before him, blinking at his armor on the floor...this was not something he could have predicted. Nero had heard the elf throwing and breaking things in his room before, so he knew that Fenris obviously had moments where he couldn't control himself. That was normal, and he generally ignored it. But to let himself go so completely in front of someone, Nero frowned, especially someone he hadn't known half as long as he knew Hawke and the others...what could have caused...

Nero shook his head and stood, his knees cracking and causing him to wince as he did. Slowly Fenris looked up at him, his eyes so red rimmed that the green stood out like a beacon. Expressionless Nero offered him a hand, confusion flickered across the elf's face before he reached up and took it, allowing Nero to pull him to his feet.

Fenris felt empty, he felt nothing. He let Nero help him up, knowing that any other time he would have scorned the offer of assistance. This is not like any other time. Of course it wasn't. The last time he had cried had been at the feet of Denarius, and like every time before then that he had cried he was insulted and emasculated and he always forced himself to stop. There were a few times, not many, that other salves were around when he was weeping. The pity they had was almost as bad as the insults.

He had expected Nero to tell him to stop, to tell him he was being a child. When that didn't happen he remembered how he had seen others comforted when they were crying and expected Nero to speak to him in a voice full of pity and say 'it'll all be alright.'

But the other man didn't do that either. He hadn't said anything through all of it. And now he was leading Fenris to his bed, pulling the blankets away and lightly pushing on his shoulder to get him to sit down. Fenris obeyed and quietly watched as Nero walked to the fire and stoked it, then picked a dirty shirt up off the floor and quickly used it to wipe away the mess on his shoulder and chest. That's embarrassing, Fenris thought, but he did not feel it.

Nero quietly walked back to where Fenris was sitting on his bed and knelt down so that their faces were level. The seconds stretched by and Fenris watched Nero as Nero seemed to search his face for something. Finally he seemed to reach a decision and, standing, he strode to the door and locked it. Fenris turned his gaze to his own hands again, the faintest echo of confusion nagging him. He frowned and laid down, curling into a ball on his side, dragging the blankets up to cover him. He twitched in surprise at the sudden dip in the mattress behind him and felt Nero slide beneath the sheets.

Later Fenris would be surprised he didn't push the other man out of the bed, or jump out himself. That he was not angry or wary of the intrusion. It was a testament to the state he was in that he stayed silent. He didn't even protest when Nero forced his way into the ball he had become to pull him closer. He didn't say a word as his back met the other man's chest and an arm reached around and fingers limply wrested against his wrist where he kept his hand under the pillow. A shin forced its way between his, and he jumped a little at how cold the other man's foot was. He felt a smirk on the face that was pressed against the back of his neck, and he realized that he had never had this much of his body touching someone else before, not even earlier when he had been with Hawke. It only left him even more confused.

Nero had started to doze when he heard Fenris speak, even though he mumbled his voice was raspy.

"Why?" he asked.

It was the first word said in hours. He opened his eyes and lay his head back in the pillow as he carefully considered the question, there were many things that he could be asking about and he did not want to assume anything. He had already learned today that his assumptions were not necessarily accurate.

"Why what?" he responded just as quietly.

Fenris didn't reply right away, and Nero had begun to think that he wasn't going when he said "you haven't even asked what happened."

Nero closed his eyes and gave a small shrug, his reply muffled as he spoke into the back of Fenris' neck, "you'll tell me if and when you want to."


	29. Chapter 29

Nero didn't sleep for very long after putting Fenris to bed, he had gone to bed early the night before out of boredom. Even so his arm was still painfully numb where it was pinned under the elf's shoulder. Wincing, and trying desperately not to wake Fenris up, he wiggled it out and frowned while the blood flowed back to his fingers. Luckily, Fenris was sleeping like a rock and didn't even stir when he jostled him. The elf was laying on his back now, one arm across his chest and the other hanging over the edge of the bed. Nero was momentarily surprised by how peaceful the man looked while sleeping and he recalled a similar reaction not that long ago when they were in the gallows.

As quietly as possible Nero slipped out of bed, his joints popping in the process, reminding him, again, that he wasn't young anymore. He sat down in a chair by the fire, and stoked it again, and allowed himself to wonder what exactly happened to get the elf so upset. Clearly something triggered memories of his past, but what? Recalling the bite marks and bruises on Fenris' neck Nero found himself hoping fervently that someone didn't try to force the elf to do something he didn't want to.

Glancing at the armor on the floor he shook his head, no, the elf was still wearing the armor when Nero found him, and it would have had to have been removed for those marks to get there. Maybe Bethany had been right, and the two were that close. He frowned and a sharp pain exploded in the center of his chest. That seemed the most likely explanation for the marks, but it still did not explain the state Fenris was in when Nero found him. Nero's brow furrowed, surely Hawke wouldn't have caused that, Hawke was not that type of person, he wouldn't knowingly put someone in that state. At least, Nero didn't think he would.

With a mental sigh he stood and glanced at the sleeping elf, shaking his head sadly he turned and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Guilt washed over him at how he had acted the night before. If Fenris and Hawke really were together than Nero had no reason to sleep in the elf's bed with him; had Fenris been in a better state then Nero was sure he would have been kicked out. Unknowingly Nero had taken advantage of Fenris, he was despicable. How could he do something like that to someone who had been a slave, a position that would have warranted being taken advantage of at every turn?

Prior to this train of thought he had been considering getting something to eat, but now he barely felt as though he deserved such a luxury. One of the few things he did not like about freedom was that he had to take responsibility for his own actions. He could not comfort himself when he regretted doing something by telling himself that he had no choice in the matter. He did have a choice and he had chosen poorly.

Stopping in his room to grab a shirt he wen to the backyard. He should be doing exercises or maybe even cleaning but he did not feel up to it. Instead he decided to try and clear out the mess that once might have been a garden.

...

The sun was setting when Nero decided that he should probably check on the elf, make sure he was still alive and all that. He had worked the day away, well, most of it anyway. At some point in the afternoon he had uncovered a stone bench by a waterless waterfall and took a nap on it. He had the sunburn to prove it. Most of the weeds and foliage were cleared away but there was still lots that needed to be done. He absentmindedly wondered if he had always had such a penchant for gardening.

He stopped by the kitchen to clean the dirt from his hands before he ascended the stairs to Fenris' chamber. He knocked gently before slowly easing the door open. Only to find the room empty, and not just of the elf. Although Fenris didn't own very many things (mostly just his armor, weapons, and a pack containing things that are necessary to have when on the road) they were all gone and the fire was dead.

With a frown he threw the door open the rest of the way and looked over the room a few more times before assuring himself that he wasn't imagining things, Fenris was gone. The only sign the elf had ever been there was the mess that he had made the night before. Confused Nero turned and headed to his room to bathe quickly before getting dressed and heading to Lowtown and the Hanged man with hopes that Fenris was there. In the least Nero hoped that Fenris had told someone he was leaving.

As Nero walked through the darkening streets he reprimanded himself for his actions even more than had been earlier. Chances were that Fenris had found the idea of continuing to live with him an uncomfortable one. Maybe he was going to live with Hawke in his new estate, maybe if Nero really wanted answers he should head there.

No, Nero knew if he headed to Hawke's he would have a hard time concealing his jealousy over his relation with the elf. 'Cause that's what it is, isn't it? he asked himself, even Bethany saw it. Lo and behold, you can't even read yourself as well as others can. He smiled sadly. It would have been nice to realize that he had feelings for the elf before he screwed it up. Or before Hawke got there first.Stop referring to him that way, Fenris is not some waif ready to go with the first person that will take him.

Nero looked up at the wooden replica of the man hanging from the bars rafters. At least I'm not down enough to be jealous of him, he chuckled.

Opening the door he strode past the growing crowd, side-stepping around a man that Nora was demanding somebody get rid of. As he walked up the stairs he was surprised to hear Hawke's muffled voice on the other side of the door leading to Varric's suite.

"... he looked as though he was going to say something before he left, but he didn't." Hawke was saying, confusion evident in his voice "I don't know Isabela, he seemed hurt that i wanted him to leave. I thought i had made it evident that i didn't want more than sex. Maybe i should have just said it straight-out."

Isabella chuckled, "he's an ex-slave Hawke, i don't think he's as capable of reading someones body language when it comes to these things-oh, hello, Nero-Hey!"

Nero had thrown open the door to the suite and in one quick move had grabbed Hawke from where he was sitting across the table from Isabela and pinned him against the wall with one hand on his throat.

"You bastard," He hissed, "how dare you use him like that. What have you done?"

Nero's fist connected with Hawke's jaw with a sickening crunch. Hawke's head snapped to the side and when he turned it back to face Nero fury burned in his eyes. He grabbed the thumb of the hand that was being held around his neck and twisted, with a wince Nero let go and fell to his knees. Hawke kept hold of his hand and punched Nero three times in the face in a quick succession. Nero spit blood out of his mouth and made to push himself to his feet when Isabela grabbed him by his spare arm and pulled him across the floor, away from Hawke. Varric rushed past and put his hands up in front of Hawke, trying to calm him down and prevent a full-fledged fight from taking place in his room.

Isabela dropped Nero's arm and let him get to his feet, but when he made a move towards Hawke she grabbed him by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. Pushing him out the door she forced him down the hall and into her room where she slammed and locked the door behind them.

"The the fuck is your problem?" She demanded.

He sat on the foot of the bed, bunching the bottom of his shirt and holding it against where his lip was bleeding, He looked up when she spoke, anger still evident on his features but didn't say anything.

She tsked and disappeared into the bathroom, she returned with a bowl of water and a cloth. Setting it on the floor she kneeled in front of him and made to pull his hand from where he held it to his face but he gave her a hard look and jerked it back. She smacked his arm hard and when she again tried to move his arm he complied. She dipped the cloth in the bowl and, after wringing out most of the water, she placed it on his chin. He winced and she smiled wryly.

"Maybe next time you wont try to fight hawk when he's in his armor and you're not. Gauntlets and face are not friends you know"

Nero continued to scowl, he was almost certain now that it was Hawke's fault that Fenris had been so upset the night before. He wanted to pin Fenris' disappearance on the man as well, but he knew that could just as likely be his fault. At least he could safely assume that Fenris hadn't decided to move in with Hawke. Hoo-rah for that, he thought sourly.

The cloth Isabela was using to clean his face was now more red than white...or gray as it were, but he had stopped bleeding so profusely. As his rage began to subside Nero became increasingly aware of the discomfort in both his face and his hand. His lip stung every time Isabela put the cloth to it and his knuckles throbbed painfully from when he had punched Hawke. Nero lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers to survey the damage, it was swollen and turning an ugly purple but it didn't feel broken. Thank the maker for small miracles.

Evidently in his rage he had left his training outside. He knew throwing a fist at someone was more likely to hurt him than the other person, especially if he was aiming at the face. He was silently thankful that he his fist hadn't gotten caught in the other man's teeth, Nero didn't particularly feel like going to Darktown and visiting Anders. Going at Hawke in and of itself had been dumb, the man was almost twice his size. Nero's skills lay more in fighting dirty and making use of pressure points and speed, brute force was not his strength. Nero was sure the only reason he got Hawke out of his chair was by surprise. He shook his head at his own stupidity.

"You're lucky," Isabela said, "your bottom lip has a nasty split in it but nothing seems to be broken and you aren't missing any teeth."

There was a knock on the door and Varric demanded to be let in. Isabela put the cloth in Nero's hand and stood to let the dwarf in.

"Andraste's flaming knickers, what was that all about?" the man demanded.

Nero looked away, his scowl unfaltering. He refused to answer, instead gingerly holding the cloth to his lip.

"Did he talk to you, Rivaini?"

"No, but if i had to guess i would say it has something to do with Mr broody-elf." She smirked at Nero's look, "I think that's the one."

"What the hell did the elf do? I don't understand." Varric shook his head in frustration.

"I think its more a question of who did the elf do. Hawke was just telling me of his pleasant evening with Fenris when Nero came charging in to defend Fenris' honor." Isabela laughed.

Varric looked at Isabela thoughtfully before speaking, "i wonder if that's why the elf was leaving..."

"What?" Nero demanded.

"Lo and behold, he can still speak. I had begun to think maybe Hawke beat your ability to talk right out of you." Varric smirked, "Fenris came by this morning, he asked for some of his share from the deep roads and wanted to know when the next ship was leaving. Lucky for him I have a contact taking some of the things we found in the deep roads to Antiva to trade and his ship left around noon today."

"He didn't say why he was leaving?" Nero asked hopefully.

Varric shook his head, "when I asked he just said that he needed to get away for a while."

Nero visibly deflated and let his hands fall to his lap.

"Sorry, Violet." Varric apologized.

Nero shook his head and stood, "I'm going home." was all he said before he let himself out of the room and left the hanged man to walk back to Hightown and the empty estate.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and reviews are appreciated.


End file.
